


Jack Spicer 2.0 - Apophis

by infernicorn



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Badass Jack Spicer, Child Neglect, Coming of Age, Dissociation, Eastern Spirituality, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Implied Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Introspective Jack Spicer, Jack Spicer is BEST, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Mental Health Issues, Misgendering, Near Death Experiences, Overcoming Adversity, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Save the Fucking World, Self-Discovery, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Suicidality, Suicide Attempt, Trans, Trans Female Character, Transgender, abuse of LGBTQ character, implied original character death, introspective, m2f!Jack, mtf!Jack, spirituality, trans discovery journey, trans!Jack, transgender character, uplifting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24494287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infernicorn/pseuds/infernicorn
Summary: A near-death experience gets Jack Spicer thinking, and she'll have to think even more when the greatest danger of this Age threatens the world. Jack Spicer is called to team up with the Xiaolin monks to save the Balance of All Things--and she is forced to come to terms with her own identity, and to discover the hidden power that has been within her all along...
Relationships: Jack Spicer & Original Character(s), Omi & Jack Spicer
Comments: 40
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> FOREWORD FROM THE AUTHOR:
> 
> First, thanks for reading! Second, I know you wanna get started, but there's some groundwork to lay down before you do.
> 
> This fic is set roughly in the time period that the show, Xiaolin Showdown, was produced--so early 2000s. You may find references to old 2000s things, like DVR (aaaah, those days before Amazon Prime and Netflix took off...). Specifically, the events pick up in a time shortly after the canonical events of the episodes "Judging/Saving/Finding Omi". You will find the timeline of the fic to diverge greatly from that of the show after that point, which I think has its advantages (NO--'Hannibal Bean' is NOT a thing).
> 
> Additionally, I have taken great pains to keep in mind the setting of the show, which is China. In the early 2000s. I have also made a few adjustments to the world, which I feel do the concepts therein more justice. Namely, the Xiaolin Dragons and their elements align with the Chinese system of Wu Xing--Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water. All adjustments have been made in an effort to be true to the spirit of the mythology behind the show and, hopefully, its setting. In this fic, Raimundo is the Dragon of Wood. Not Air. Additionally, the Dragon's signature weapons have been altered to better match the setting and mythos. I believe--and perhaps this is just my gut feeling--that this aligns better with what the writer of the show originally intended.
> 
> Okay! That's it. Enjoy!

PROLOGUE - A Sanctuary for a Mad Dream

~*~*~

"May it be an evening star  
Shines down upon you  
May it be when darkness falls  
Your heart will be true  
You walk a lonely road  
Oh! How far you are from home

Mornië utúlië (Darkness has come)  
Believe and you will find your way  
Mornië alantië (Darkness has fallen)  
A promise lives within you now

May it be the shadow's call  
Will fly away  
May it be you journey on  
To light the day  
When the night is overcome  
You may rise to find the sun

Mornië utúlië (Darkness has come)  
Believe and you will find your way

Mornië alantië (Darkness has fallen)  
A promise lives within you now

A promise lives within you now"

\- Enya + Roma Ryan

~*~*~

"Don't Dream it. Be it." - Dr. Frank-N-Furter

~*~*~

Have you ever thought about what it would be like if dreams were aware of one another?

Jack considered the thought as she sat in an ornate auditorium. A theatre. Before her played out every act of her life, sad, joyous, and terrifying, and beside her a fellow spectator--and perhaps critic of this production--a figure from her childhood. A secret idol of hers and the main villain of the 1975 cult-classic musical, "The Rocky Horror Picture Show". Dr. Frank-N-Furter. Free-spirited, cross-dressing, bisexual, homicidal mad-scientist. The eccentric doctor sniggered at her, his eyes wild and green, and his grinning lips painted in the brightest red imaginable. He was done up in a dark 70's style perm, and a red corset, and his legs were laced in fishnet stockings. They were draped sensually over the back of one of the theatre chairs. He grinned at her, his green eyes winking beneath a veil of blue eyeshadow.

"This... I'm dreaming... Aren't I? You... You're a dream." Jack stuttered, guiltily eyeing the curves of his legs and the low rise of his black panties.

Frank laughed suddenly, exclaiming with delight, "Oh! TRUE!" Then he turned a hungry eye upon her, surveying her appearance with dangerous but delectable intention. "You're not so bad yourself."

Jack opened her mouth to speak again but Dr. Furter shushed her severely.

"Shh! The floor show! It begins!"

Jack raised a bemused eyebrow and turned her gaze upon the stage before them. The stage of her life.

She watched, ignoring the occasional snicker from her viewing companion as he munched on some popcorn. It was a sad play. A child, alone. The ugly duckling. Never quite belonging anywhere. Jack tried to look away, but Dr. Furter always managed to make her to look somehow. He grinned and offered her some popcorn but she sourly refused. She simply sighed and watched.

A small child. So delicate and beautiful. She entered into this world so full of potential and power, a brilliant light inside of her--but something happened. Ghosts and monsters collected around her, grinning and whispering to one another about their secret plans. They took the child, stripped her naked--and this bothered Jack greatly, for she hated when her body was revealed to others--leaving her bare for all to see. And then they reached inside her heart and pulled the light, her power, from within, like plucking a cherry.

Dr. Furter chuckled with cruel fascination at the spectacle. Jack did not find it so funny.

The sad play continued. The child, out of her head and inside a skin that did not fit quite right, wandered from one heart to another, seeking her light. She sought it in the approval of her parents, apathetic and uncaring. They gazed upon her with severe and pitiful looks. Her mother dressed her up in little boy outfits and paraded her in front of their strange assortment of friends. Her father remained silent the entire time. Whenever she thought she might have found her light, they turned her gaze elsewhere, directing her through her life like a little doll.

Jack gritted her teeth. Frank-N-Furter continued to munch delicately on kernels of popcorn.

She saw her teachers, her classmates. The derisive glances. The whispered laughter. Tears began to form in Jack's eyes. She did not want to watch. She tried to stand and leave, but she was horrified to find her body frozen. She was stuck, just like in the play. She was once again someone's mannequin, forced to view what they wanted her to see. No choice.

She saw the world shift around the child before her, as she... he... grew. He found solace in tinkering. That was the only time he ever felt the faint glow of that light, but he remained like a rat on a wheel, running in vain in a search for something that was missing but never finding anything. And never getting anywhere.

Wuya entered the scene. This hurt especially for she had just dumped Jack... Again. Betrayed her, just like everyone else always did, and tossed her aside for another. Jack watched the masked witch maneuver her alternate self on the stage around with strings. Jack noticed the strings had a current running through them. They drained energy from her mannequin self on the stage as she carried out Wuya's desires for her life. And failed. Again. And again. And again...

Then Chase Young entered. Jack witnessed his beauty and power and she felt sick. She longed for him. The same way she had always longed to be like Frank-N-Furter, she longed to be like Chase. He looked upon her stage-self's dance with derision. And then he did something heartbreaking. 

He left. Just left.

He did not even take the time to watch her dance. He departed, seeing her as little more than another set piece. And this hurt the most.

Tears ran down Jack's cheeks, where she sat, viewing the whole charade. She tried to scream, but her voice was stolen. She turned to her right, watching Frank-N-Furter burst out in laughter. His cruel smile and beautiful lips twisted in amusement.

She was ashamed. 

She couldn't watch, so she closed her eyes.

Then Jack opened her eyes only a moment later when the sounds of the play and Frank-N-Furter's laughter vanished.

There was a warmth coming from above. She looked up and saw the gentle sway of golden leaves against a sky of the purest aquamarine. Jack blinked, wondering at the sudden change in scenery. She turned her gaze downward and her brows rose in wonder. 

Before her sat a gleaming statue of a man with an elephant head. He had a kind expression, despite his bizarre--even comical--appearance. He bore one broken tusk. She stared at it and felt an echo of sadness in her heart. Somehow she felt a kinship with this strange being.

The elephant man was just a statue, gleaming and gold, but he felt alive. She slowly stepped toward him. Her heart fluttered inside of her when her gaze met his. He bore four eyes, all aquamarine as the sky.

Who was this man?

And what was this feeling growing within her. Like the warmth of a fire found after straining against the winds of an unrelenting ice-storm. Jack shivered.

"You found us."

A small voice, neither male nor female, came from behind her. It was sweet and its sound increased that strange feeling in her heart. 

Jack turned around and was met with the bright gaze of a childlike creature. 

It bore a pair of silver antlers, small and unassuming, which grew from a head of flowing white hair. It had pale-grey skin and a simple garment of white, to match its hair. But its eyes were the most striking feature, aside from its voice. From that pale-grey face Jack was met with the gaze of gleaming violet irises that twinkled with an entire galaxy of stars within them.

The creature spoke again.

"Jack Spicer. Welcome."

The being's voice was the source of the feeling like the warm fire in the storm. When it spoke, Jack felt the ice of her heart begin to melt.

It frightened her.

Jack thought about taking a step backward but found herself once again rooted. Not by force this time. But by her own curiosity.

"Who are you?"

The little creature smiled warmly. It took Jack by the hand. Its skin was like velvet and it cradled her hand within its own tiny ones.

"A friend."

Jack frowned at the being.

"I don't know you..."

It absently pulled at one of its long pointed ears.

"Yes and no..." it said. Then it smiled brightly. "But I know you."

Jack was about to make some retort again but the childlike creature pulled her along by the hand.

"Come, Jack Spicer. You must meet everyone."

"Everyone?"

'Everyone' consisted of a strange menagerie of creatures. A tall man, wearing a suit, with demon-red eyes. His brother, dark and with a dangerous but irresistible grin. A cat. Two panthers. And a man with orange-gold hair like the setting sun. There were others, too, that came and went. Too many to count.

"This is a sanctuary, you see." The little sprite said. 

They, the sprite, had no gender and this was a marvel to Jack. The man with the orange hair also presented in contrary ways. He shifted moment by moment. Sometimes a cat, sometimes a spider, sometimes male and sometimes female. And often all of those things at once.

"A sanctuary? Sanctuary for what?" Jack had asked.

"For people like you." The sprite said.

Jack came to call the sprite 'Star', for they felt like a guiding light glimpsed from within the darkest night. Star said that this was not far from the truth. 

Star told Jack that all the souls who passed through here were in a similar spot in their existences. In fact, they, and all the others there whom Jack had met, were no strangers to darkness and pain. It was in their pain, Star explained, that they came up with the idea to open a Sanctuary for lost souls. A Sanctuary of Dreams.

"So... I AM dreaming." Jack mused.

"You always are," Star said simply.

The man with the fiery hair laughed. He was called Asura in this place, though he told Jack that he had many, many names. Asura giggled and prodded Jack in the ribs.

"Have you ever been AWAKE?" Asura asked, though it was, apparently, a rhetorical question, because Star continued without letting Jack answer.

"We exist in a space between Dreams. We get contracted, you see, to provide Dreams to specific people." Star explained.

"Specific people... Like me?" Jack wondered.

"Da!" Asura chirruped. He grinned and jabbed Jack in the ribs again. "Someone out there wants you to 'wake up'."

"I thought you said--" Jack began to say but Asura waved her question away with his hand and pointed.

They came to a door, which Star opened with only a thought, and within was a space beyond belief.

"This is your room, while you stay," Star said, gesturing for Jack to explore. 

Jack marveled at the place prepared for her, forgetting her bewilderment, and Star watched Jack's reaction with a pleased expression.

"I already outfitted the room in a way I thought you might enjoy, but feel free to change anything within." Star said. "The room responds to your wishes, and it will generate whatever you need."

"Seriously?" Jack grinned.

"This IS a 'dream' after all, isn't it?" Asura said with a catlike grin.

"You're free to stay as long as you must, however, there is just one requirement," Star continued.

Jack paused and looked at the two individuals standing in the doorway.

Star took a step forward. 

"This is a place of growth, and revelation," Star said, as they offered Jack a single card. She hesitantly took it.

Depicted upon the card was the image of a young woman, crying in her bed, beside nine swords mounted on a dark wall to her left. The woman seemed terrified, much like one might be after waking from a terrible nightmare. 

The image filled Jack with unease, and for a split moment she thought she saw herself reflected back in the terrified woman's face.

"While you are here, you must reflect upon this card," Star said.

Jack waited for them to say more, but they did not. 

She was left to ponder the card, in the room of her dreams, filled with a sense of both wonder and unease...

* * *

Now, reader, let us take a moment to ponder 'dreams'. They are funny things, aren't they? So real when there, but rarely remembered when elsewhere. But, and many people do not know this, their energy stays with you. Like a past life, perhaps forgotten in the conscious mind, in the physical memory of your current body's brain, but their meaning and effect remain within the memory of your very soul.

Jack's dream in the Sanctuary is for her alone. But you will get to see its effect in her 'other life'.

And that is where we pick up.

* * *

Jack sputtered awake, coughing and choking. Something kept her breath from her and her shivering body instinctively turned on its side. A mouthful of vomit spilled from within her throat, and she spent the next several minutes choking and wheezing. Red liquid stained the white tiles of her bathroom floor. Water, mixed with blood. Her arm burned, and her hand reflexively clamped over the deep gash which she had cut into its vein.

Jack looked around. Her heartbeat was irregular, and her vision was blurred by loss of blood and the cocktail of drugs she had taken prior to her attempt on her life. The bucket of water in which she had placed her bleeding arm had, somehow, been turned on its side. Now she sat quivering within a puddle of blood, vomit, and water.

Tears came to her eyes and she began to sob.

Her memories slowly came back to her, as the memory of the dream she just had began to fade. She grasped at its contents, like a child trying to hold onto their mother's hand. 

"No... Don't go..." Jack whispered. She cried harder.

She had felt It, the thing she had been searching for, within that Dream. She had seen and been things she had always wanted. And most of all, she had felt clarity. And peace. For once in her wretched life she had felt the peace of a loving gaze, of knowing herself. Yet now that memory was being taken from her.

Jack curled into a ball, ignoring the foul smelling liquid beneath her. And she wept. For hours.

And then, she found a song within her head, which came to her in the darkest moment of her sorrow, like a guiding star in the blackest night. It was a memory, sung by a sweet voice that bespoke the feeling of a warm fire amidst a long and terrible storm. The song filled her with comfort, like a spell woven with love.

Though the details of her beloved Dream faded, the memory of its meaning remained within her.

Jack stood, shaking and unsteady. She braced herself on the sink and groped within the bathroom cabinet for bandages. She panted and shivered, trying with fumbling fingers to staunch the wound on her arm. 

She had survived. Again.

This was not her first suicide attempt. But something, somehow, always seemed to keep her going through each one. In a short time, this wound would just become yet another scar on her arm. A reminder of her dark night of the soul.

Jack bandaged herself, cleaned her body, and reactivated her bot network, which she had killed just prior to her latest attempt. She let her bots take care of the rest--cleaning, and monitoring her vitals--while she dragged herself to the futon within her lab. And she slept.

She had no other significant dreams during that sleep, however when she awoke she felt as though something had shifted within herself. Firstly, she had more blood, thanks to the ministrations of her medical bots and the ample supply of her own blood which she kept on ice for just this sort of occasion. But, it was not only her body that felt different. Jack sat up upon the futon.

In her mind's eye she saw herself, surrounded with others who loved and accepted her as she was. Who were 'Other', like her, but who lived in happiness and acceptance of this fact. A tribe of their own. And she had felt powerful there. Perhaps this was an image from her dream. She could not recall. But she remembered the feeling. Jack stood and strode to her workbench, pulling out one of her many sketchbooks. She began to draw.

In her dream a few things had been made clear to her. She wasn't where she wanted to be. And she was tired of chasing the dreams of others in hopes of finding her own. Her pencil moved across the page almost of its own volition as she thought. There was something inside of her that had been taken. And now, where once she had been filled with despair, she was filled with anger about it. Everyone--every person in her life so far who was supposed to love her and help her--they had used her instead. Her parents. Her schoolmates. ... Wuya. Oh yes... Wuya. Jack's pencil dragged hard across the paper when she thought of the witch.

"Abandon me, will you, bitch...?" Jack muttered. She was done with pretending for the sake of people who cast her aside so readily.

Jack rolled her chair back and held her sketchbook up before her. The design for a new evil outfit shimmered within her imagination, and it was captured upon the paper. The first step of manifesting her new self. She smiled. A new look for a new outlook. She had survived. But not only that--this time she had woken up too.

~*~*~

THE JOURNEY BEGINS:

Jack Spicer 2.0 - APOPHIS

Chapter 1

Jack tightened the lace of her boot as she scanned the mountain ridge. The autumn sun cast dramatic shadows across the peaks, setting the mists between them ablaze with gold. Grey crags of stone and shale mottled the landscape. A perfect back-drop for the scene in her mind. She had been waiting for the perfect setting, and now she had it.

She noticed a sliver of emerald silhouetted against the sky, spiraling from around one of the distant peaks to her right. A malevolent green light and the hum of a jet engine came from beyond the peak to her left. Showtime. Jack flicked her wrist out, motioning to her bots to stay low. Not a sound. She grinned to herself as she saw both Wuya and the Xiaolin Dragons descend upon the plateau.

Wuya and Katnappe leapt from a hideously-fashioned jet in the shape of a cat-head. Jack rolled her eyes. Ashley, or villain name "Katnappe", had flare, yes, but her style was always WAY too overstated. No class. The cat-themed villain let out a hiss as Dojo, dragon guardian of the Xiaolin temple, swung low to the ground. From his back leapt the Xiaolin Dragons--Omi, Kimiko, Raimundo and Clay. Wuya made a show of tossing her mass of scarlet hair behind her shoulder as Dojo came to rest a dozen yards from Katnappe's jet.

"And here I was hoping to be back in time to watch my show with Chase. We've been watching 'World's Deadliest Women' together. No matter, we have the DVR set up." Wuya sighed.

"Wait. I thought you said Chase was out on an evil quest--what's going to happen when he finds out I'm helping you get Shen Gong Wu behind his back?" Katnappe spat.

"Oh calm down, kitty-cat. Chase thinks I'm out getting a waxing."

Katnappe gave Wuya an incredulous look.

"He never pries whenever I give that excuse. He doesn't know that I never need to wax--magical body wash keeps my skin as radiant and smooth as ever." Wuya said.

"TMI, lady!" Raimundo's voice came from across the plane.

"Yeah. No one wants to hear about your creepy, evil spa habits." Kimiko added.

Katnappe hissed at the warriors again and Dojo spoke.

"That Shen Gong Wu is close! And we gotta find it before they do!"

"Do not worry, Dojo. We have defeated Wuya and Katnappe before. This time will be no different." Omi piped, offering a smug grin. He struck a ready pose and called out to the evildoers, "Prepare yourselves for a most humiliating defeat!"

"Ha. Don't think so." Katnappe cackled. She pulled a small device from her belt and pressed a button. The jet behind her hissed and opened to release a swarm of kittens.

"You're gonna need more than the same old angry kittens to find that Shen Gong Wu before us." Raimundo said with a laugh.

"Oh. No. They're not the same." Katnappe purred. "They're upgrades."

The feline youth cackled as the kittens began to glow green. There was a hideous yowling that came from each of them and they began to double in size. Soon the monks were staring at an army of angry, lynx-sized, glowing cats.

"Wuya gave my kittens a little extra catt-itude in exchange for my services capturing Shen Gong Wu." Katnappe quipped.

The hoard of cats spat, causing an awful racket, and Jack raised an eyebrow from her hiding place on the ridge. "Neat." She thought. Robots are still way cooler.

"Oh... Uh. Those are no longer kittens..." Omi took a step backward as the cats closed in on the Xiaolin warriors.

The warriors exchanged uneasy glances, anticipating the amount of claws and teeth to come.

"They're still just cats." Raimundo tightened his fists and poised himself, offering a lopsided smile, perhaps a bit forced. He barely got to finish his statement before a peal of caterwauling tore across the rocky landscape. Cats and warriors leapt into a frenzy of fists and claws.

Jack watched from her position, safe, sound and rather comfortable. She motioned to one of her bots and it dispensed a handful of jellybeans into her open palm. She absently chewed on the beans as she watched the show. She winced, suppressing a snicker, as a pile of cats leapt onto Raimundo, burying the Dragon of Wood underneath a mass of bristling fur. While the monks were engaged, Wuya and Katnappe skipped off across the rocky crags, following Wuya's senses ever closer to the hidden Shen Gong Wu. Dojo, who had coiled himself atop one of the many boulders, cringed as he watched. He, like Jack, noticed the two harpies making for the Wu.

"Guys! GUYS! They're going for the Wu!" Dojo cried.

"No--worries!" Raimundo gasped as he pulled himself from under the cats, sending a handful of them flying.

Omi leapt over the heads of the cats and monks, springing off more than one kitty cranium, toward Wuya and Katnappe. Katnappe hissed and turned to route his advance while Wuya continued on, but then the feline villain was knocked into the air. Clay sent a shudder of seismic energy into her path. She faltered and Omi was able to side-step the femme fatale, only to be waylaid by another phalanx of felines.

Jack leaned over the ridge's edge to see the battle better. Then she stood and adjusted her headband, along with her signature goggles, which she now wore around her neck. She gave a smug grin. Enter, stage left.

Wuya scanned the expanse with keen, green eyes. And at last she found what she was looking for. A silver glint at the tip of a rocky spire caught her gaze. She gave a wicked smile and leapt toward the spire, but had to twist mid-air to dodge a sudden volley of laser-fire.

Jack entered the battlefield with a glorious evil laugh, bidding her Jack-bots to descend upon the Heylin witch while she hovered with her heli-bot overhead. Her hands curled into a wide gesture of diabolical triumph, and her heart soared in her chest. She felt so alive. The sinking sun cast golden streaks across the sky, and the purple shadows twisted the landscape into a vibrant, psychedelic pattern from her bird's eye view. Another evil laugh bubbled up inside her as she watched the witch glare up at her and then pause. Her gaze held the witch's own with a gleam of devious defiance.

Wuya deflected another volley of laser fire before Jack motioned for the bots to cease their onslaught. She descended closer to the witch, yet still outside of striking range. Wuya stood to her full height and watched the young genius with a keen expression.

"Did you lose a fight with one of your fashion-bots?" Wuya cackled wryly.

Jack's smug grin vanished and she thrust her hands to her hips.

"No! This is my new evil look." Jack smiled again and swept her hands down her sides in a seductive motion.

Wuya's voice was mocking however she raised an eyebrow with interest as she scanned Jack's new threads. The characteristic long, black trench coat had been opened in the lower front, flowing behind Jack to reveal the pearly tone of her exposed midriff. Instead of her usual dark pants and combat boots, she wore a pair of tight-fitting, weathered black shorts, overtop tattered black fishnet stockings, stark against her pale complexion. Knee-high boots with dark laces and gold embellishments accentuated the delicate curve of her lower legs, and the cut of her shorts drew attention to her slim thighs and waist. The tail of her long jacket flowed behind her, dramatic and evocative, and even her makeup evoked the same sense of drama, heavier, smokier. With dark lipstick and heavy eyeshadow. 

Beyond just her clothes, something was different about the Jack Spicer. Wuya noticed. Jack's form was more flowing, and her gestures more willowy and exaggerated than usual. Indeed, her bearing was more confident than before, wicked, and sensual even. Jack alighted on the tip of a rocky spine several yards from Wuya and stared down at the witch with pride.

"Interesting." That is all Wuya said before she sprung backward, in a catlike backflip. She made her way toward the Shen Gong Wu--a pair of nested bangles snagged on the tip of a spire of shale. Jack's eyes widened for a moment and then she leapt after Wuya. The two of them hardly saw the swiftly darting form of Omi on the ground just behind them.

The three made for the Wu--known as the Chrome Coat Bangles. Their hands met at the spire's tip, and a golden gleam began to radiate from the Shen Gong Wu.

"Wuya! Omi! I challenge you to a Xiaolin Showdown Trio!" Jack declared.

Wuya sighed heavily and nodded.

"Jack Spicer, I--" Omi paused. "... What are you wearing?"

The little monk looked at Jack's attire with confusion, then he let out a loud snort. "Are you wearing GIRL stockings?" He began to laugh uncontrollably but Jack hissed over the sound.

"Well do you accept the showdown or not?!" Jack snapped.

Omi did not respond. He was too distracted, trying very hard not to fall off the side of the spire while also gripping his sides with laughter.

"Oh for the love of-- He accepts. Name your game, Jack." Wuya rolled her eyes.

"Field of Spires. Last one standing wins. I wager my Third Arm Sash, against your Mantis Flipcoin, Omi, and your Fist of Tebigong." Jack said.

"Fine." Wuya said. She and Jack both raised their eyebrows at Omi, who was still struggling to regain his composure. He finally heaved a huge sigh and then nodded.

The gaze of all three challengers met and they shouted in unison, "Gong yi tenpai!!!"

A violent shudder shook the plateau and all on its craggy surface found themselves shooting upwards into the golden sky, as spires of purple and blue rock rose beneath their feet. Golden mists spilled into the gaps between spires until the entire landscape appeared as a field of crisscrossing violet needles, ascending at varying heights and intervals amidst the glow.

Jack, Wuya, and Omi stood in a triangle from one another, upon the tips of three spires set several meters apart. Dojo, the other monks, Katnappe, her cats, and Jack's bots all watched from ridges set in the sides of three gigantic spires, looking out upon the precarious landscape.

Only a fraction of a second passed before Wuya and Omi both leapt from their spires--both in the direction of Jack.

Jack let out a scream and deployed her heli-bot, just in time to narrowly miss a leaping strike from Omi and a crushing blow from Wuya, which shattered the spire where Jack had just stood. Jack snickered as she ascended out of the reach of the other two, but let out another shrill scream as a spike of violet stone shot suddenly from the distant mist, striking the left blade of her heli-bot. More spikes rose from the golden abyss, and Jack shrieked again as she floundered in the air, twisting out of their path with little grace. Using the Third Arm Sash, she managed to catch herself on one of the spikes that shot horizontally across the void beneath her. She heaved herself up onto its narrow surface and breathed a heavy sigh of relief, clutching the beam with both her arms and legs. She looked up at the sputtering blade of her left rotor. It was making a cringe-worthy whining sound as it attempted to turn its mangled blades in vain.

"Great..." Jack muttered and she withdrew the blades back into the main pack with a roll of her shoulders.

Elsewhere in the field, Omi and Wuya danced across the shifting spires like lemurs. Omi sprang from spike to spike effortlessly, barely touching their surfaces while Wuya leapt from one to the next, leaving a rain of stone in her wake as she attempted to shatter Omi's footing. Jack watched them glide through the columns of stone like paper in the wind. She sat up, still hugging the stone beam with her legs, and sighed. She scanned the field for any opportunities to reinsert herself into the game. She found it when the two opponents turned their dance in her direction.

Jack stood up, balancing on the beam, and drew in a short breath. Her scarlet eyes took in the field, mapping out each spire. Time slowed as she built the map in her head. Omi and Wuya moved through the landscape like tiny pieces on a large-scale, 3-D chessboard. Jack observed their movements, plotted possible courses and probabilities, and then leapt from the beam. The Third Arm Sash gripped the spire across from her, swinging her upward, and she swung her way through the maze of spikes to meet them above.

Omi skipped over Jack's head as she came to meet her two opponents, and Wuya diverted her course to strike Jack as she swung past, however Jack had anticipated this and reflexively released the sash's grip, dropping a few feet below Wuya's strike before catching her self again. She swung back up and around and perched upon another spire, just in time to see Wuya shatter the stone column beneath Omi's feet as he landed. Omi let out a cry and attempted to vault off the shattered remains before they fell away from his feet, however he was unable to gain enough traction. He reached out to grab at any nearby spire, but found, with some amount of confusion, the end of the Third Arm Sash.

Jack swung the young monk up and around to another spire, grinning to herself at the look of confusion on Omi's face as he landed safely upon the beam. Wuya took no time to wonder at Jack's actions. A well directed jump and strike turned the pillar beneath Jack's feet to rubble, but Jack did not mind this turn of events. The Third Arm Sash coiled itself around Wuya's ankle as Jack passed the witch on her way down. There was a split second where the two made eye contact, and Jack was pleased to see the realization in Wuya's eyes that she was also going down. Young genius and witch fell into the misty abyss in a tangle.

The lattice of violet spires withdrew, the mists receded, and the landscape returned to its former shape with a rush of energy. Omi was left standing with all three Shen Gong Wu in his hands. Jack and Wuya lay in a tangled pile a few feet away.

With a huff, Wuya shoved Jack to the side and pulled herself to a standing position. Jack noted with more than a bit of pleasure the irritation in her movements as she dusted off her black dress. Katnappe gave a final hiss before summoning her lynxes (which had reverted to kittens once more) back to her, and she and Wuya slunk away to Katnappe's jet with a pall of frustration. Jack smiled inwardly as she heard Katnappe make a snarky remark to Wuya about her losing out to Jack Spicer.

Jack looked down at her black, painted fingernails. One of them was chipped. She considered it as she remained kneeling upon the cold, stony ground. The sun sunk below the horizon as she took that moment of pause, turning the entire landscape to a world of grey.

"You helped me..." Omi looked at his kneeling foe with an expression of puzzlement. Jack almost did not hear him, as she remained lost in thought. However she caught herself and stood. She made a show of nonchalantly brushing dust from her jacket and straightening her sleeves and collar.

"You're welcome." She said with a calculated note of apathy, as if it were nothing.

"But... Why?" Omi stared up at her. His dark, beady eyes searched Jack up and down as he considered her possible motives. Jack thought she could already see that annoying glint of hope in his eyes that he always had whenever the two of them spoke off of the battlefield.

"Does an evil genius need a reason to do anything?" Jack retorted.

"Uh. Yeah." Kimiko said from the side, as she and the other monks approached.

"What are you up to, Jack Spicer?" Clay drawled, rubbing his chin curiously. The rest of the monks eyed Jack with suspicion, while Omi continued to gaze up at her innocently.

"Wouldn't YOU like to know." Jack snarked automatically, but then she adjusted her carriage ever so slightly. A moment of inward hesitation and panic passed inside of her, flickering for a fraction of a second, and she hoped none of them saw the ghost of uncertainty that passed across her face. She looked away, as if to stare at something far more interesting than any of them.

"Whatever you're up to, Jack Spicer, we aren't buying." Raimundo scoffed, folding his arms.

"Look. I just did you a good turn! Is that so hard to believe?" Jack snapped again, pausing for a moment to realize the words she had spoken. She decided to keep the same bearing of nonchalance.

The older monks exchanged glances, while Omi looked down at the Shen Gong Wu in his arms.

"Yeah. Actually? It is." Raimundo retorted. Omi cut him off.

"Does this mean you have indeed turned to the side of Good?" His eyes widened with hopeful anticipation.

God. This boy was the most gullible person Jack had met. However she felt a familiar pang in her heart as the young boy stared up at her with those pleading eyes, full of concern and hope. It was a feeling she had only come to acknowledge recently. Until a short time ago, she had never allowed herself to acknowledge such a gaze. It was a gaze of sincere longing--longing for HER. Her friendship. Previously she had only felt pain when he looked at her in that way. And she still felt pained by that look. It frightened her. But for the first time in a very long time, the pain she felt, and the longing in his eyes, was met by a reciprocal longing in her own heart. The sensation was uncomfortable, and she instinctively folded her arms across her chest and across her heart, guarding it.

"N-no." Her voice cracked a bit, and she cleared her throat. "No. Don't be so naive." She looked up briefly to see that expression again and then she wished she hadn't. "I-I just, you know..." Then she shook her head and put her hands on her hips in the sauciest pose she could manage beneath that unsettling gaze. "I'm not Good. I just had some epiphanies lately."

"Uh..." Omi hawed--Jack realized he might not even know what that word meant. The other monks cast hard, incredulous gazes upon their old foe. Jack turned away and waved a hand, as if to wave away any previous statements.

"I do what I want, got it? There's a whole new Jack Spicer in town." She spun about and thrust a pointed finger in their direction. "And you better be ready. Big changes are on the horizon." She took a moment to adjust her collar again, offering a puffed expression. "So... Watch out." Hm. The ending was a bit flat. Jack blinked, and then tossed a determined glare upon her old foes.

There was an awkward pause.

"Right..." Kimiko finally said.

"Yeah." Raimundo coughed. "Well. If you're done. We're just gonna go now." Then he added with a mocking tone, "We've got some new Shen Gong Wu to put in the vault."

"Yeah. Alright. You do that." Jack held her gaze, pleased by the effect of the confident, unaffected grin she gave. Kimiko pulled on Omi's shoulder to indicate for him to follow, and the monks climbed onto Dojo's back with a bit of unease. Jack watched them go and smiled, a sense of relief washing over her, mixed with a strange new excitement.

* * *

Back at the temple, Master Fung met the monks upon the courtyard steps. Raimundo leapt from Dojo's back with a pleased expression.

"Another Wu for the vault." He said.

"Yeah. The Chrome Coat Bangles are ours. Thanks to Omi." Kimiko smiled and patted Omi on the head.

Omi had been quiet the whole trip home. He looked up with a frown of thought.

"No. Thanks to Jack Spicer..." he said.

Master Fung raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. What was THAT about?" Kimiko wondered.

"I bet Jack Spicer is planning something evil." Clay mused.

"Master Fung, we did not win the Shen Gong Wu squarely." Omi said with concern. "I only won it because Jack Spicer HELPED me win the Showdown. But I do not know why..." Omi frowned.

"Fair and square." Raimundo offered. "And we totally did. Who knows why Jack Spicer does anything..." The Brazilian monk shrugged, stretching and already thinking about a hot shower and a new set of clothes. "We can take anything Jack Spicer throws our way."

"Right?" Kimiko laughed. "And what was up with that new outfit? Can you say 'poser emo'?"

"I also was wondering that..." Omi said. He gave a perplexed expression. "Although I do not know what the poses of large birds have to do with it..."

Kimiko rolled her eyes and smiled. "Poser EMO. Not emu. And... Don't worry about it." She gave Omi another pat. "Come on, let's put these Shen Gong Wu in the vault. Then we can eat."

"Now that's an idea I can get behind." Clay smiled.

"I know." Kimiko smiled at him as the group made their way to the vault.

* * *

Jack Spicer stared at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She traced her dark lips with a slender finger and turned her face to give the best seductive, evil pout she could muster. She tested a few other expressions, turning this way and that, observing the form of her legs beneath the black fishnet stockings. Her hands traced along her ribcage down to her hips, and then lightly touched the line of her pelvic bone. She observed with mesmerized pleasure the shape of her pelvis. The tape had worked perfectly in the field. It had been uncomfortable at first but she had been surprised by how quickly she forgot about it. A sudden pang of doubt and panic caused her throat to restrict. She withdrew her hands and stood up straight, absently curling her arms around herself in a defensive position. Jack closed her eyes and swallowed, shaking away the feeling and trying to find that confidence again. She exhaled and looked back at the girl in the mirror.

Girl. She was beautiful. She repeated it in her head, frowning at the reflection before her in uncertainty.

There is no going back. Quitting is not an option.

Jack startled as the sound of voices came from down the hall. Mom and Dad were home from their trip. A sudden wave of panic rushed through her like electricity through her chest. She had to take a moment to unfreeze herself. She stared at her reflection again and suddenly felt a desperate need to hide. Jack tore off the shorts and stockings as fast as she could, and tossed her shirt to the floor. She stared at the panties she was wearing and a lump formed in her throat.

She couldn't do this. It would never work. What was she even doing?

She tore the panties off and quickly shoved them into the bottom of her clothes hamper. The panic began to subside and she actually felt a bit silly for reacting so. One more glance in the mirror made her grimace. Tape. She had not been looking forward to this bit. She wandered to her washroom where a bot with a warm, wet washcloth was already waiting, and began to carefully remove the tape. It actually wasn't that bad. Some of the accounts on the internet had made it sound worse than it was--however she was more used to pain than the average person. Jack exhaled and quickly tossed the evidence into the washroom trashcan--then she pressed the button for it to incinerate the contents.

Just in time. Her stomach nearly jumped into her throat when a knock came at her bedroom door. Her eyes darted to the door and she exclaimed that she was changing, her voice coming out higher than she anticipated and then lowering as she instinctively overcompensated.

"Jack?" It was her mother.

"Uh, y-yeah! Hold on." Jack grabbed her bathrobe and scampered to the center of the bedroom to kick the stockings out of the view of the door. Then she noticed with some horror that she was still wearing lipstick and the heavy eyeshadow. Later she would wonder why this troubled her so--she could always pass off her makeup as "just another goth thing".

The voice of her mother came through the door again, "I just wanted to let you know that we picked up some of those cannolis you like from that little shop in Italy on our way back from Paris."

"Oh. Uh. C-cool." Jack said, still adjusting the pitch of her voice.

"Dinner should be ready soon. Chef is making your father's favorite." her mother added.

Mother had insisted on hiring a flesh-and-blood chef, although Jack knew one of her robots could do just as well, with more consistency even. But Mom continually spoke about heart and soul being in the food, or something like that. "Robots have souls..." Jack thought.

"Okay." Jack sighed.

"Be washed and ready by 7:30."

"Fine."

Jack heard the click of her mother's heels fade as she left to finish putting away the rest of her spoils from the shopping trip. The hall outside the door became silent again.

Jack exhaled slowly and picked up another cloth from the vanity. Slowly, and a bit sadly, she removed her makeup, and she instructed the bot standing by to lay out a fresh set of clothes, and boxers, for her to change into after her shower.


	2. Chapter 2

Dark clouds hung over the imposing silhouette of Chase Young's mountainous lair, just as they had always done. The perfect mixture of darkness and fire cast illusory shadows across his domain--The Land of Nowhere.

Chase sipped from a freshly heated bowl of his Lao Mang Lone Soup, and gazed out at his domain from one of his balconies. Wuya was late. He suspected that she was up to no good, as usual. Technically, they were both ALWAYS up to no good. However Wuya had a quirky habit of going behind Chase's back to find ways to kill him. He sighed and patted the head of one his tigers, which came up to sit beside him. No doubt she was off somewhere trying to amass magical artifacts with which to assassinate him. She always gave the excuse of going for a waxing whenever she was up to such schemes. Chase was already quite aware that she did not need to wax, on account of her home-made, enchanted body wash. Still, he preferred to allow her the lie of secrecy. It was easier to keep her on a leash if she still believed she had some freedom. Either way, it looked as though they would miss the latest episode of 'World's Deadliest Women'. Fortunately they had the DVR set up to record it (they enjoyed watching it together for a few laughs, and to mock the meager attempts at villainy by the mundane masses).

Chase turned his dragon-eyes upward at the entrance of one of his animal minions. One of his crows alighted upon the balcony rail. It cawed at him with a sense of urgency. Chase raised an eyebrow and handed his bowl of soup to his jungle cat (which had been trained to skillfully balance dishes upon its head without spilling a drop) and instructed it to put the soup in the fridge for later. He followed the crow upward, up, up, to the tower room, set in the tip of his mountain lair. Inside was a chamber, lined by eight mirrors, angled to point toward the ceiling. In the center was a sinister looking crystal, smooth and round, and perhaps darker in hue than it should have ever been. At the moment, a red glint glowed in the heart of the crystal ball.

The crow perched upon Chase's shoulder as he approached the sphere. A gesture of his sharp fingers sent a pulse through the crystal. The red inside its heart scintillated and flashed outward, emitting beams of light, which shot from the sphere into the mirrors, which in turn bounced its energy into the air above. The collected light formed a suspended image in the dim of the crystal chamber.

Chase's gaze remained cold and calm, as possible futures flashed before his eyes. He saw fire. And an impending doom unlike the Earth had seen in millennia.

The Dragon Lord smiled. 

An evil smile.

* * *

Elsewhere in China, the Xiaolin masters sat in a circle, meditating in the heart of the temple. A shudder passed through each of them, and Master Fung opened his eyes. A wordless understanding passed from one to another. Master Fung looked toward the heavens. Something was coming. Change was on the horizon.

* * *

It was a day like any other. Another Wu, another dollar. Jack watched the indicator light on her GPS flash closer and closer as her Jack-jet fast approached the Wu's hiding place. No doubt others would be heading for the same spot. It was never easy or straightforward being a villain. She wondered which Wu it was. That was one disadvantage of her falling out with Wuya (again). She had only discovered how to identify the energetic signature of a newly activated Wu, however she never knew what it would be when she got there. Well, surprises are the spice of life, she figured. Jack watched the clouds rush by below her, and the faint glint of a few stars above--she could often see the brightest of their numbers at this altitude. 

Being up here was like being suspended in some world perpetually caught between day and night. She never knew why, but it brought her comfort. Void above and below, in a liminal space where no other soul breathed but her. It was a comfort. She sighed and leaned back in her seat, contemplating the deep blue of the outer layers of Earth's atmosphere.

She wondered whether Wuya would be here for this Wu too. Or Chase. Probably not Chase. He hardly ever concerned himself with Wu. In truth, Jack thought Wu were fun, however the run-around had become a bit trite. It was still entertaining to get to play with the monks, though. It certainly beat sitting at home surfing the web. And, what was more, her parents were home again--and they were having yet another one of their parties tonight. 

She determined to take her time getting back.

The sensor on the dash beeped pleasantly, alerting Jack in a cheery tone that they would be landing soon. She stretched, fastened her flight harness, and pressed a button to switch to manual mode. A few furlongs behind, a capsule drone transporting her sleeping bots followed. She flipped a switch to boot them, ensuring they would be ready to deploy upon landing. Sure enough. She saw the coiling form of Dojo already heading into the jungle below, where the Wu was supposed to be. 

It had to be a jungle... Jack would have to get out and get to the Wu on foot, or, via heli-bot. She pulled as close to the canopy as she could and switched the jet and its companion drone into standby mode. With one final check of her makeup, and another application of her own proprietary super-strength blend of odorless bug spray (patent pending), Jack exited the craft.

The jungles of Borneo were not on Jack's list of top travel destinations. It was hot. Sticky. And the bugs were already eyeing her suspiciously from every direction. This humidity was going to totally ruin her hair. She put her goggles over her eyes and pulled out her ventilator mask, which she had painted with a stylishly sinister skull design, to keep her mouth and nose safe from insects as she wove between the trees. Her bots trailed behind her while she kept an eye on her watch's holographic GPS readout. The source of the signal was close, but it would take a bit of searching to pinpoint its exact location.

Closer. Closer. TREE BRANCH. Phew. Closer.

Jack's concentration was interrupted by a sudden yank on her leg. She went down with a considerable amount of force, catching a tangle of branches on the way. Something had caught her foot, and it continued to coil itself around her calf and thigh, constricting and holding her fast. A set of vines had come to life and were winding their way up her leg. She tried to fly from their grasp but they only tightened their hold as she struggled against them.

"Hey look! I caught a monkey." Jack heard Raimundo's mocking laugh. She looked up to see the Dragon of Wood perched upon a tree branch above, leaning against its trunk, his arms folded with a conceited air of nonchalance. He actually looked really cool. Jack would have appreciated it more if it wasn't for the diminishing blood flow in her toes.

"Oh come on!" Jack hissed. She pulled out a small laser cutter she kept precisely for dealing with this situation. "These vines better not be poisonous!"

Raimundo snickered, watching the young genius struggle to cut away the vines. They continued to creep up her legs, and eventually coiled themselves around her hips. Somewhere in the back of her mind she considered the implications of this scene, were someone, somewhere in the cosmos, to be reading it on the internet right then... The vines continued to creep up around her thighs and in between her legs. She shook her head, calming the sensation of heat that spiked below her stomach. Right now the vines just really hurt!

"JACK-BOTS!" she cried, and a volley of lasers came from her support crew, burning away enough of the vegetation for her to break loose.

This was another reason why Jack hated jungles. She was at a marked disadvantage against Raimundo here. His ability to control plant life was annoying at the best of times, and downright deadly at the worst.

"This! This is why I want a rock garden!" Jack shouted as she sped away from another set of vines creeping toward her. Her Jack-bots gave her cover, incinerating any leaf or twig that got too close. Between the blasts of heat, clouds of bugs, and sticky humidity, Jack was ready to call it quits and go home to take a nice, long bubblebath. She changed her mind when she heard a familiar cackle. 

Wuya seemed to appear out of nowhere, gleefully cutting through the foliage with blasts of Heylin energy and Jack realized that she had found the epicenter of the signal. Below her was a crystal phial, shimmering with a quiet, ethereal glow, and tucked amongst a twisting swirl of vines. A scintillating, clear liquid dripped down the sides of the phial, nourishing the mossy forest floor below. Indeed, the liquid was the purest, most delicious water possible, and this jungle had been drinking up its bounty for centuries. Jack normally would have smiled at yet another opportunity to stick it to Wuya, but it would be nearly impossible to handle Raimundo in such a place.

"The Eternal Fount!" Dojo cried, perched on the shoulder of Clay, who had just arrived on the ground below. Kimiko and Omi were at his side.

"Don't even try it, boy!" Wuya cackled. "The Eternal Fount is mine! And with it I shall ensure my youth and beauty forever!" She let forth another blast of sinister, green energy, knocking Raimundo to the forest floor.

"I think not, evil witch-lady! The ugliness of your evil soul shall always shadow over the extensive beauty of your body!" Omi added his strangely-worded two cents as always; and Jack could not even tell whether he was trying to insult Wuya or compliment her.

"Always falling short with the quips. Just like everything else in your life, eh, munchkin?" Jack snickered, coming to hover a few feet above Omi's head.

Omi looked confused for a moment and then exclaimed, "Hey! I am simply small-boned!" He looked sincerely hurt for a brief second, and Jack almost regretted her comment. Almost. Omi muttered that he was simply efficient in his utilization of space.

"Yeah. You keep telling yourself that, shorty." Jack jeered.

A blast of flame cut Jack's mocking short. Kimiko had already begun cutting through the orb of vines encasing the phial. Wuya hissed and unleashed a flurry of powerful strikes upon the Fire Dragon. Kimiko leapt away, barely, and was saved by a well-timed flying boulder, courtesy of Clay. Jack tried to cut around to the phial from an oblique direction but a wall of water cut off her route. Omi directed another blast of water at Jack, summoned from the pooling water at the base of the phial's encasement, knocking her from the air. She hit the mossy earth hard, and the moss did little to soften her landing. 

Coated in mud, and pulling mossy twigs from her now-soaked hair, Jack hauled herself to a standing position. She threw down her ventilator mask, which was now clogged with mud, and pushed her goggles onto her brow. She was about to give the command for her bots to focus fire on the little monk between her and the Shen Gong Wu, but a sudden pulse through the earth and the water at her feet shook her. 

A wave surged through the spring water, and the air pressure in the forest suddenly dropped. Thick clouds came in dense and dark above, and the fog around them grew so thick that it became nearly impossible to see. All parties in the battlefield paused and the entire jungle fell eerily quiet. Something had changed. Something big. A sense of foreboding filled the air, and Jack felt the bottom of her stomach drop, much like the temperature of the forest, which had rapidly fallen over the course of just a few seconds.

Each of them stared nervously into the mist, unwilling to move and unsure whether to speak.

A short cry from Kimiko somewhere in the fog set them all on edge, yet not a single person had the chance to respond. There was a sound of movement across the water's surface, a scuffling, another cry as Omi attempted to strike out at something (and missed), the sound of someone falling, then another. Jack's heart grew cold and she wasn't sure whether she was going to vomit or pee as she glimpsed a shifting in the mist, a shadow, and then she felt a rush of air behind her. She stood frozen in terror just before a sharp pain on the back of her neck turned her world to black.


	3. Chapter 3

'...an evening star, shines down...you're heart will be true...'

Jack awoke with a melody stuck in her head--which hurt. A lot. She hesitated to open her eyes, trying to remember the rest of the song.

'...walk a lonely road...'

It was gone. She always hated that. Waking up with only pieces of lyrics in your head.

Her neck felt stiff and her entire body ached. She opened her eyes. It took a minute for her to adjust them, as the place she was now was very dim. A heavy, metal grate, austere in design and set into plain, grey stone, was beneath her. She could not see what was below it, however she felt a draft of stale air coming from beneath, along with a musty odor. She was kneeling, and something hard and cold was holding her arms fast behind her. She raised her head, which felt quite dizzy, and squinted into the damp darkness. 

A creeping dread began to crawl into the pit of her stomach as she looked to her left to see Raimundo. On her right was Omi. They were arranged in some kind of circle, all facing out, with their hands held behind them by some device she was unable to see. Panic began to set in. She could tell others were there too but it was too painful to crane her neck. Her head pounded and her vision was still blurry. She attempted to move her hands but the device holding her would not budge. She was trapped.

"Wh-where..." Jack muttered, her eyes widening. She felt the bottom of her stomach drop again. Then she did something she was very good at. She screamed.

A sharp rebuke in Portuguese came from her right.

"Shut up!" Raimundo hissed.

The echo of Jack's scream reverberated with concert-worthy acoustics through the place of their imprisonment. The shrill sound roused Omi on Jack's other side, who startled awake and also began to scream in confusion. His scream only made Jack scream louder, and then Raimundo tried to shout over both of them to be quiet. Clay's voice could be heard somewhere in the mix, and at last it was the voice of Kimiko that beat out the lot of them, her rebuke snapping them all back into silence.

"Geez, Jack! What the hell, man?" Raimundo hissed again. "Now that my ear has permanent damage..."

"Where are we?" Jack's question came shrill and her voice quivered. Her wild eyes searched the area around them. The walls were difficult to discern--if there were any--being cast in shadow. A single light from far above shone down on them, however no other feature in that silent place could be seen save for the iron grate below and the prisoners it supported.

"Rio." Raimundo mocked.

"Uh... Are you sure that--" Omi began.

"No! We're not ACTUALLY in Rio!" Raimundo scowled.

"You all are behaving like infants, and it's worsening my headache." Another voice came from the space directly behind Jack. It was Wuya.

"But... But what happened? How did we get here?" Omi puzzled. He tried to look around as Jack did but also found it to yield little results.

Wuya sighed. "Isn't it obvious? We've been captured and this is a dungeon."

Jack's eyes widened and she swallowed hard.

"C-captured...? Captured by who?" Jack stammered.

There was a pause and then Wuya's voice came again.

"Obviously by someone much more powerful and devious than any of you." Her voice took a colder, more sinister character. "Most likely someone who plans to torture us."

"Torture...? H-how do you figure?" Jack whispered.

"Well, why else keep us alive? If they just wanted the Wu they would have just killed us all and taken it." Wuya's voice was calm and matter-of-fact, though Jack could not see the smile on her face.

Jack's throat tightened.

"I don't want to be tortured!" Jack wailed. "HEEEEELP!!! OH GOD PLEASE! I'LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING! HEEELP! ANYONE!!!" Jack screamed and rocked back and forth in her restraints as best she could, much to the protest of the others.

She suddenly stopped at the sound of a metallic click somewhere in the darkness and then the sound of stone scraping against stone.

"Oh god. N-never mind. I'm good. P-please don't torture me..." She whimpered. Raimundo rolled his eyes.

There was the faintest sound of footsteps and the sense that someone had entered the room. Then there was silence. The prisoners waited, straining their eyes in the dim.

"Hello?" Kimiko finally said. "We know someone's there!"

The silence persisted.

"M-maybe they left?" Jack whispered, but then let out another scream as a figure stepped soundlessly from the darkness before her.

The figure held up a finger in a gesture of silence, and Jack immediately complied. The stranger wore a simple hood and a mask which was painted with one half black and the other white, and which had only slits for the eyes and bore no mouth. They wore tight-fitting clothes, grey and simple in design, which revealed the visitor to be very definitely female--along with a long, thin sash loosely wrapped about her shoulders.

"Hey, puta! What's the deali? Why are we here?" Raimundo demanded.

"To speak." The woman replied simply.

"Well, we can speak just fine OUT of restraints!" Raimundo retorted.

"Yeah! Why lock us up if you just wanted to talk to us?" Kimiko added angrily.

"For protection." She replied again.

Omi began to laugh. "Oho! I am sure this is one big misunderstanding. We are the GOOD guys, see. WE do the protecting."

"Yeah except for Wuya. She's not a good guy." Jack quickly added.

"Neither are you!" Wuya spat back.

"But see there is no need to be locking us up--" Omi continued.

"Except for Jack and Wuya." Raimundo added.

"Yes, except for Jack and Wuya. We mean you no harm." Omi finished with the most amiable grin he could muster.

The woman in grey tilted her head and placed a hand on her hip. "The protection is for YOU."

The prisoners (or, those who could face the stranger) stared at her. Wuya was unable to see the woman, positioned as she was, so she simply listened.

"Uh, ma'am. No disrespect. But you got a mighty odd method of protection here..." Clay said.

"If I were to release you, the heads of my Order would have you executed." The woman said slowly.

"Order? What order?" Kimiko asked.

"There is little time to play Twenty Questions." the woman sighed. "Please listen to what I have to say."

Raimundo scoffed. "Well, I don't know about everyone else, but I listen a lot better when I'm NOT chained to the floor."

Jack nodded and added hesitantly, "Y-yeah. And when I'm not talking to some creepy lady in a mask." Wuya would have glared at Jack if she had been able.

The woman in grey looked from Raimundo to Jack and seemed to consider for a moment. Then she slowly removed her mask, fastening it to her belt, and pulled back her hood. She uncoiled a long braid that had been tucked into the back of her hood and let it fall down the front of her shoulder. Her face was young, but bore the drawn lines of someone who had spent much of her life beneath the weight of carefully considered responsibilities. Her eyes were steel in color, brought out by the grey of her outfit and the gloomy surroundings. Yet there was kindness in her gaze, and even a certain sadness that seemed to cling to the fine features of an otherwise placid visage.

She spoke again, however her gaze rested upon Jack alone as she did so.

"I have brought you here at a tremendous risk--to both you, and to myself."

Jack stared at the woman. Well. This story was already off to a good start.

"Please. Very soon a great calamity shall strike the Earth, like none seen in millennia. I need your help to prevent this destruction. No one will be able to help but you."

"And why should we trust you?" Raimundo said. "I mean, you kidnapped us, locked us up. You're not doing much to help your case, lady."

"I know you must have your doubts about me. My actions have done little to engender confidence. But I would only have done such out of absolute necessity. You must believe me when I say that countless lives shall be lost should this calamity be allowed to pass." Her voice lowered and she bowed her head. "And worse, it has the potential to alter the balance of this world forever."

Wuya let out a burst of derisive laughter. "Oh please! Why on earth would I have any reason to help you stop such a thing? Destruction of countless lives? Sounds like my kind of party." She gave an insidious smile.

"YOU are here only incidentally." The woman spat. "Though I also extend this opportunity to assist to you as well, I doubt you will take it. You are fortunate that I forbade my comrades from killing you, witch, for it has been seen that you still have a part to play in this world. Still," her voice quieted, "I would have enjoyed killing you had I been granted that right."

Wuya gave a petulant pout but she said nothing more.

"Please." The warrior spoke once more to the children. "Only you have the ability needed to avert this turn of events."

Jack raised an incredulous eyebrow, "Look. Lady. I don't know if you are aware, but saving the world is not MY thing. It's theirs. So, do I really need to be here for this?" 

She was startled to see the woman cast a warm smile upon her, warmer than any look she had given in their exchange so far. Jack instinctively looked down and away from that gaze.

"Jack Spicer. I need your help most of all." spoke the woman in grey.

Jack started and met the woman's gaze once more--with some amount of discomfort. She opened her mouth to speak but faltered. Then she produced a burst of cold, frenetic laughter, perhaps with a bit too much effort behind it.

"Right. Yeah. I'm pretty sure you must be pretty desperate if you need MY help." Jack paused. "Wait... That came out wrong."

Omi piped up. "What is this calamity that is so dire as to prompt you to ask for our help? And with such secrecy?"

"I cannot tell you at this moment," the woman paused, "in present company..." She cast a hard gaze upon Wuya. "However I shall speak with my Order to beg their permission to let you live. I shall return later. Hopefully with favorable news... Then we shall be able to speak further."

The grey warrior fastened her mask about her face once more and departed without waiting for their reply. The young monks and Jack looked after her with expressions of puzzlement and frustration, and, in Jack's case, fear.

"Well." Raimundo finally spoke. "I don't know about you all, but I don't plan to be here when she comes back. There has gotta be a way to break out of this joint." He took several long moments to test the strength of his bonds. With a huff he desperately looked around for any sign of a possible escape route.

Wuya laughed at his efforts. "It's no use, you know. These restraints we are in? They are clearly made to hinder the flow of chi. That means no magic, and no Wu Xing abilities." She gave a long sigh. "It looks like we're all stuck. At least until our captors decide to get rid of us." She added the last statement with a bit of acerbity, and a smirk.

Jack stared down at her knees. Her mind involuntarily produced a myriad of unpleasant outcomes for the situation--most ending with her being tortured and brutally murdered. She bit her lower lip and let out a small whimper. Tears welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

"Do not worry, Jack Spicer." Omi's voice came from her left. She looked over to find him gazing at her with a sympathetic expression. "We are the Dragon Warriors. And you are an evil boy genius, remember? This dungeon cannot hold us."

"Evil boy genius..." Jack said weakly. "Yeah..."

Then Omi added with an encouraging smile, "Yes! And no amount of horribly brutal torture will be able to break any of us."

Jack's throat went dry once more and she felt a distinct discomfort in her lower regions. She realized with mortification and disappointment in herself that she had wet herself at some point. It felt very strange, tucked as she was. She shifted uncomfortably and tried to force a feeble, nervous laugh but gave up when no sound seemed able to escape her parched throat. She opted to just close her eyes tight and begin reciting prime numbers in her head.

2, 3, 5, 7...

"Oh. I wouldn't be so sure, little monk. It's clear that our captors are no strangers to brutality." Wuya offered, bearing a wry grimace. "They dispatched each of us without even being seen."

...11, 13, 17, 19...

Wuya continued on with cruel candor. "And they obviously have an intimate knowledge of the body and its energetic points. No paltry band of brigands would have restraints such as these."

...23, 29, 31, 37...

"I expect they are very skilled--and efficient--at handling magically gifted individuals such as you and I." She gave a final, bitter smile. "I think that our captors will definitely be able to do anything they want to us, no matter how grotesque it may be--and every will has a breaking point."

"41, 43, 47, 53!" Jack began to count out loud, in an attempt to drown out Wuya's words. Wuya blinked and then smiled, familiar with Jack's habit of reciting mathematical patterns whenever she was anxious. Wuya continued with that same smile.

"I don't think ANY of you have ever experienced REAL torture."

"59, 61, 67, 71!" Jack counted even louder. Wuya raised her voice slightly to ensure she was heard.

"Real torture isn't like the little games shown in your comics and cartoons."

Omi also was growing increasingly nervous in light of Wuya's dark musings. His little eyes widened.

"Do... Do you really think they plan to torture us?" He laughed nervously. "Surely they could be very nice people."

"Nice people who locked us up in this smelly dungeon...?" Kimiko said morosely.

Omi looked increasingly disbelieving of his own words.

"73, 79, 83, 89..." Jack closed her eyes tighter and continued to recite numbers, rocking uncomfortably in her bonds.

"Well... It could be... They could be..." Omi tried to think of some positive view of the situation.

"Face it, Omi. We're not leaving here." Wuya sighed. "At least... Not alive, that is."

"97, 101, 103, 107!" Jack's voice reached a fever pitch.

"JESUS! JACK! Will you STOP!" Raimundo finally exclaimed. "My ear really IS going to go deaf being chained up next to you. Anyone wanna switch prison partners?"

Jack bit her lip, and cried, "I'm sorry! I recite prime numbers when I'm nervous!"

"Jack. It'll work out." Kimiko offered soothingly, attempting to calm their neurotic foe. She was not sure whether it really would be okay, but she could feel the increasing tension in the room. And she really wanted the shouting to stop--she still had a headache too.

"Kimiko's right, Jack." Wuya offered suddenly in a sympathetic tone.

Jack opened her eyes and stammered, "Y-you really think so?"

"Of course. Things WILL work out." Wuya smiled. Then she added sweetly, "For them."

Jack resumed screaming and begging for mercy to no one in particular. Eventually the others gave up on trying to coax her to be silent. Omi stared at the floor, his young face fixed in a dismayed frown.

"I think that we may indeed be sunken." Omi said morosely.

"Sunk..." Raimundo said flatly.

"That too." Omi looked over at Raimundo with a serious expression.

"W-well... Come on." Kimiko tried to encourage Omi. "Maybe that masked lady is telling the truth. And..." She thought and then added brightly, "And Dojo is still out there! Maybe he could come to our rescue. Or at least tell Master Fung that we're missing."

The other monks considered her words with only a halfhearted hope. Clay sighed. They remained silent for the next several hours. Even Jack's cries turned to silence after her voice started to hurt.

And they waited, in the grey damp.

* * *

Black and white. Silver and grey.

The grey warrior stood in a hall of shadow and light. Shafts of cold sunlight cut through ribbons of darkness, streaming from a series of thin, imperious windows high above the floor on the left wall. The right wall of the hall was completely in shadow. The sound of her footfalls, though soft, echoed eerily in that place. 

At the far end of the hall sat three figures. The figure on the left was robed completely in white, and it wore a black mask. The figure on the right was robed in black, with a white mask. Between them sat a figure cloaked entirely in grey and silver. Three wide steps ascended to where they sat.

The grey warrior came before them and knelt on one knee, her head lowered in deference. She waited patiently for them to speak.

It was the central figure, in grey, who first broke the silence.

"Rise, Grey Warrior."

The woman rose, though she kept her head bowed.

The next to speak was the figure in black.

"You have served our Order for many years with grace."

And spoke the figure in white,

"This sudden act of petulance is out of character."

The grey warrior spoke with her head still bowed. "Everything I have ever done has been in service to the Tao."

Spoke the figure in black,

"Yes. Your service more than any has been without fault. Ever since infancy."

Spoke the figure in white,

"You have been a great pride to us."

Spoke the figure in grey,

"Yet never before has one of our own broken our sacred tenets as you have done."

The warrior lifted her face and spoke, "I do not come to beg forgiveness. Instead I come to beg mercy. Not for myself but for the lives of the Chosen Ones."

The council was silent for a moment. Then the figure in white spoke.

"Never before in the history of our Order have outsiders seen the halls of our Sanctuary and lived."

Spoke the figure in black,

"The weight of their lives, and their destinies, now rests upon your head."

The warrior of grey beseeched the council with calmness and respect. "You have Seen before--the children are vital to this world's balance."

"Yet you endanger them by bringing them here." The figure in white replied.

"I shall accept what punishment the Voice deems fit. I only ask your permission to allow them passage in our temple." She continued. "The dragon has vouched for them. To punish them for my transgression would not be just."

The council exchanged glances with one another but remained silent. Finally, the figure in grey replied.

"Justice is yet to be decided."

Spoke the figure in black,

"Yet the intentions of your disobedience are seen."

Spoke the figure in white,

"However your actions endanger everything we stand for."

The grey warrior replied with fervor. "Our purpose is already under grave threat! In only a short time our every effort shall be for naught."

"That remains to be seen." the figure in grey replied sharply.

"Perhaps it has been our failing to entrust you with such a personal task all these years... May it be that love has clouded your judgment?" Mused the figure in white.

The grey warrior stiffened. Her lips drew tight behind her mask. "No. I act only for the Balance, as I have always done." Her words were quiet. The council considered her and all she had spoken before replying again. When they did, they spoke in rotating succession. Beginning with the figure in grey.

Spoke the figure in grey, "The effects of your actions are yet to be seen."

Spoke the figure in white, "Justice remains to be satisfied."

Spoke the figure in black, "Yet mercy is not beyond our sight."

Spoke the figure in grey, "The Chosen Ones shall be granted passage in our Sanctuary."

Spoke the figure in white, "Yet the decision of their fate lies before us."

Spoke the figure in black, "See that they are given what comforts we have to offer. Yet keep them close."

Spoke the figure in grey, "We trust them to your keeping. Our decision remains to be seen."

It was made clear that the council had spoken the last it would on the matter, at this time. The grey warrior bowed once more and exited the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack hovered somewhere between restless sleep and hazy consciousness. She had some vague awareness that she had been mumbling in her sleep but the ache of her head and the thirst in her throat made it impossible to think of much else. A distant click and sound of a door opening in the deep only faintly registered. A group of people clad in similar clothes to those of the grey warrior, except in variations of white and black, came to surround the prisoners. Jack looked up at them with a tired and blank expression. They moved soundlessly, unfastening the restraints of all prisoners except Wuya. Jack sat trembling upon the grate as each of the monks stood. One warrior hefted Jack to her feet and gently pushed her into line with the others. 

Prisoners and black-and-white warriors formed a procession that descended down a stair into a place of gloom and darkness. The faint outline of a corridor could be seen, winding downward and then gradually up again. Jack got the sense that rough stone walls were rising on either side of the queue, as if the path they now walked had been carved directly from some deep crevice in Earth's bosom, widened to accommodate no more than the breadth of three men across.

Jack's legs had fallen asleep from sitting still in the dungeon for so long and her movements were clumsy. She stumbled forward behind one of the black-and-white warriors, with the other monks in a line behind her, each with a warrior between them. She let a whimper of dismay escape as the feeling in her legs began to return, accompanied by pins and needles. The warrior behind her nudged her forward when she halted, and they had to hold her upright while she struggled to gain command over her legs again.

In a short time the corridor curved round, bringing them into the gaze of a brilliant shaft of light. The prisoners flinched at the sudden brightness and Jack folded her arms over her brow in an attempt to shield herself. They had passed into a natural well, high stone walls climbing all around them, capped by a gleam of cold light at the top. A crunch underfoot indicated the presence of snow upon the basin floor. The warriors led the prisoners around the edge of the well, and, once Jack's eyes adjusted more, she realized that there was a crude, stone staircase cut into its side, spiraling upward toward the light. Other passages connected to the well along the stair, their dark openings an indication of the vast and maze-like structure around them. 

The throng ascended until they were directed into one of those many passages. The sudden change from light to dark blinded the prisoners once more, making it difficult for them to navigate the uneven stone beneath their feet.

Then, quite abruptly, the stone smoothed into a gently sloping staircase, which descended once more. The walls also became smooth and purposeful in their design and, with a final breath of cool air, pulled away to reveal a vast cavern.

A collection of gasps came from the children as the vista opened before them. They were standing on the edge of an underground temple complex. Patches of light came down in thin beams from sparse holes in the naturally yawning ceiling, fading into an abyss below. Rising along the sides of the cavern and crisscrossing its wide girth were tiered courtyards, bridges, buildings, and avenues, all carved from the stone of the mountain. Buildings and byways spilled from the main seat of the temple, to form a cascade of glittering terraces, stretching out through the cavern to form an underground city. The sound of water filled that place with a continual whisper, and the mix of light and shadow gave the hamlet a permanent appearance of being cast in twilight. The glint of warm lamplights glittered within the dark, an indication of the denizens that walked the city’s halls and terraces.

For a moment, Jack forgot her discomforts. The air in the cavern was cool, and it felt clean and calm. She found it difficult not to pause and admire the skillful architecture of the temple, though the gentle prodding of the warrior behind her kept her descending the staircase, which continued to wrap around the cavern's edge, tacking back and forth into the underground valley. 

As they tread silently through the city streets, Jack noticed how odd its construction truly was. It existed in three dimensions, its paths and alleyways rising on either side, extending along the sides of carved stone buildings, fitted with many arches and windows. Yet there was a distinct lack of stairs to be seen. There were stairs along the main thoroughfares, however many of the avenues seemed to exist with no visible way to reach them. 

With a start, Jack realized that they were also being watched. Masked faces peered out from above them, along the paths and passages. A group of warriors, dressed in the same garb as their escorts, was gathered within the first courtyard they came to. At the approach of the prisoners and their retinue, the warriors stopped talking amongst themselves and stared at the incoming procession. In just a few moments, they had scattered and vanished into the plentiful shadows of the complex, like rodents caught in a sudden lamplight.

The wonder of the place was beginning to wane, giving way to a growing sense of unease in the pit of Jack's stomach as they walked through its shadowy streets. Not a word could be heard during the entirety of their voyage through the peculiar, twilit world. 

At last they began to ascend once more in a definite pattern, traversing thin crossings from one tiered courtyard to another, now entering the temple proper of the sanctuary. By the time of their arrival in this section of the underground monastery, few souls remained in view. It seemed that word of the approach of strangers had traveled upwards into the heart of the temple quickly, and its denizens had quietly crept out of their path, preferring to remain unseen.

The retinue halted along an illuminated terrace. Jack looked around nervously as the warriors surrounding them fanned out and appeared to be waiting. They stood in a semi-circle around the prisoners. 

Jack was relieved to see that the Xiaolin monks looked just as bewildered as she was. She gave a frown of confusion when the monks suddenly turned their attention to something behind her. Jack turned to see the grey warrior from before approaching them from within the temple, coming toward them via a long, open hall. The woman came to stand before them, and then she bowed.

The monks exchanged hesitant glances but bowed back in turn. Jack crossed her arms self-consciously during the exchange, opting not to partake. A feeling of annoyance overtook her and she broke the silence with a cutting tone.

"So. Is this the part where you torture us...? Or are we skipping straight to the execution?" she snarked.

The grey warrior folded her arms and tilted her head quizzically. Then she let forth a sudden laugh. She removed her mask to reveal an amused expression. "I assure you, the only torture that will happen to you in this place might be difficulty finding your way from one area to the next. As such, I recommend you stay within the walls of this part of the complex. Permit me," She placed a hand over her breast and bowed again. "I am Lyn. And I welcome you to the Hidden Temple. Home to the Warriors of Tao."

The teenagers looked at one another quizzically.

"I...am confused." Omi finally said.

"I'll say." Raimundo said. "So... Are we like, prisoners or guests?"

"I ask your forgiveness for your previous treatment..." Lyn said apologetically. "We are...not accustomed to having outsiders within these walls. In fact, you are the first."

"Pft. Obviously." Jack muttered and Kimiko elbowed her in the ribs.

"You will be allowed to stay in the temple until our council determines what shall be done with you. I am afraid that you will be required to stay within the complex until then." Lyn said.

"So... Prisoners..." Kimiko sighed.

"Please... Try not to think of it like that. Now," Lyn continued, "you must be exhausted. Rooms have been prepared for each of you. And food shall be brought presently."

"Wait. But what is this about the great calamity for which you need our assistance?" Omi asked, but Jack immediately slapped her hand over his face. The sound of an actual bed sounded too good.

"The time to discuss such things is close at hand, however I have been instructed to ensure you are made as comfortable as possible first." Lyn replied.

The monks and Jack were bade to follow, and each led to an individual room along the terrace corridor. Kimiko, Omi, Raimundo, Clay. And the last to be led to her room was Jack.

The apartment was spartan, yet not without elegance. Its curves were clean and adornments sparse and it had a simple beauty in its construction. The floor was of smooth-cut, grey stone, like everything else there. Even the bed was made of stone--a raised slab, with simple, geometric designs carved along its sides, perched atop a raised platform. A set of woven, grey blankets were neatly folded upon the top of a dark, wooden chest at the end of the bed. At the far side of the room was a simple arched window, cut into the wall in such a way for the base to form a small bench. To the left was a stone table with a silver basin and pitcher and an old oil lamp. Beside it was a worn, antique folding screen, the same color and material as the chest. 

The room had the same feeling of stillness prevalent throughout the sanctuary, as though even the air in that space had existed in quiet solitude for centuries. Jack stepped into the center of the room and cast a gloomy gaze around the spartan lodgings. In particular she noticed the lack of a door. 

She turned around to find Lyn still standing in the doorway, leaning upon the barren doorframe. The woman had a deep expression, unreadable. Her steel eyes bespoke some distant question in her mind however she appeared to push it away as Jack's gaze fell upon her.

"You will find a fresh set of clothes in the chest at the bed's end." she offered.

The grey warrior did not wait for any word of thanks (although Jack had not intended to give one). She departed with little ceremony, though she did mention the location of the baths before leaving. And then Jack Spicer was left alone at last in the barren room, in the Hidden Temple.

She stared blankly around the room for a few moments. Absently she tested the oil lamp, and then wandered to the window. It bore no glass, a simple opening to the greater temple outside. The temperature in the cavern seemed to remain constant, if a bit chilly. 

Jack shivered and suddenly felt the exhaustion in her body. With a grimace she scanned her appearance, and she was even more disappointed to find no mirror in the space. Her entire front was dusted grey with dried mud. Her stockings were torn more than they were meant to be, and a layer of mud covered the scrapes and bruises upon her knees. Her right jacket sleeve had been torn, revealing another deep scrape along her forearm, and worst of all, her shorts smelt of dirt and urine.

Jack hugged herself in the cool, still air, which had suddenly become less inviting than it had initially seemed, and she gently tiptoed to the edge of the bedside trunk. Instinctively her hand moved to her torso to unfasten her heli-bot, and then she remembered that it had been taken, no doubt with any other weapon she had carried at the time of her capture. She silently hoped that no harm had come to her precious device. Jack let out a frustrated sigh and tossed the stack of blankets onto the stone bed. When she opened the chest she paused. 

Inside were simple toiletries. Comb. A few cloths for use in the basin. And along their side was a simple, black, silk blouse. Jack pulled the top out to examine it more closely.

It was not quite as simple as she had first perceived, though it had a traditional charm to it. It bore a thin trim of pale gold along its base and front, where it was fastened with dark wooden beads, and the trim extended to the edge of its long sleeves. It had a high collar, like the traditional blouses of Chinese women, and stitched into the bottom left side was a subtly embroidered design reminiscent of birds. 

The shirt came down to her thigh, and it was too loose in the chest for Jack. Beside it was a golden sash for cinching the waist, and a pair of simple silk pants, which were also a bit too long and wide in the hips.

The outfit was clearly meant for a woman, albeit one taller and more womanly in figure than herself, and this caused Jack a great deal of confusion. She glanced down at her body. The clothes she had been given were for a WOMAN... Clearly. A female. 

She set the blouse and pants down gently, carefully folding them over the chest's open lid, as if they were of a far more expensive make than they truly were. Underneath of the sash was a pair of women's underwear, simple and black, next to a pair of satin shoes. She held them in front of her groin and was relieved to see that they would indeed fit her tiny frame. 

Jack stood, holding the blouse and puzzling at the garments left for her. Perhaps some error had occurred and this room had been meant for Kimiko. She almost walked into the hall to ask if a mistake had indeed been made. Jack examined the clothes again. They were actually very beautiful. Bewildered and still very tired, Jack was surprised to feel the heat of a tear as it slid down her makeup-stained cheek. Shocked at her own sentimentality--and suddenly very self-conscious--she tossed the clothes unceremoniously into the trunk and then sat upon the stone bed.

She was unsure how long she stared at the wall, or when she had laid down. She awoke an immeasurable amount of time later (the cavern showed little indication of time, cast ever in twilight as it was--and she had neglected to check her watch before nodding off). When she woke up, a tray of food had been laid upon the stone table. It must have just been placed there just before she woke, as the contents of the ceramic dishes were still hot. 

The meal was basic, however the hunger in her stomach and the fatigue in her bones elevated the flavor to that of the gods. Perhaps that was an exaggeration. It was still the best meal she could recall in recent memory, even making her forget the discomfort of her muddied and soiled clothes and aching muscles. 

As she sat and ate the simple repast in that otherworldly space, by the dim twilight of the cavern outside and in the quiet and solitude, she began to feel better. Her body did not ache quite so much, and even her spirit seemed calmer and her head clearer than before.

Still, no amount of modest temple food, no matter how tasty at the time, could stave off the feeling of discomfort of her soiled clothes. The feeling of comfort that had come so easily with the food began to fade once more, and Jack felt cold again. Cold. And dirty. And gross. And she had begun to suspect that the vines Raimundo had used to restrain her legs during their earlier battle were mildly poisonous. The cuts on her legs were especially painful and they had begun to itch.

Jack rummaged in the chest, finding linens within a small basket. She gathered up the clothes she had been given. Her watch indicated that it was nearly midnight yet the halls held the same silence in the night as they did in the day. Truly, if it had not been for her watch, Jack would have lost all concept of time there. 

She cautiously peeked out of her room and peered down the hall. Not a thing stirred. She felt compelled to keep her breathing shallow, and her steps light as she timidly tiptoed toward the baths. She could not pinpoint why, but her heart always raced whenever she crept out into the halls at night, even at home. Something about the stillness of the world at such times lent her mind a special freedom to wander--more often than not to places she would rather never go. 

Jack held her breath as she came to a cross section of halls, peering down each before skittering across to continue her voyage to the baths. As she crept along, she was slowly, subconsciously, building out a map in her head of the complex.

At last she came to another joining of halls, with a thin shaft of light filtering from somewhere high above. In the central junction was a still pool of water, with a bamboo fountain. Beyond it she found what appeared to be a bathhouse. She could hear the sound of running water within its thin wooden walls. 

And thus marked the first major obstacle on her journey to cleanliness. One side was clearly meant for men and one for women. Jack automatically stepped toward the men's side but then paused. She looked down at the clothes in her arms, so elegant in their black and gold stitching. She took a step back again. 

Well. This was it.

Her life until this point had been filled with compromises, usually--almost always--of herself. Only recently had this begun to change. She gazed at the garments as she thought. A creeping anxiety began to rise along the back of her neck and it made its way down to her stomach. She looked around nervously.

A Dream. Her mind fluttered back to the halls of the strange Sanctuary. She saw the gentle gaze of a sprite-like creature, clad in grey and white. Its lavender eyes gave her a questioning look, steeped in...love. For her. As she was. A flush of emotions came to Jack's stomach, overriding the anxiety, and tears came to her eyes. She recalled, in bits and pieces, a lifetime lived in that place. It was funny how Dreams could last lifetimes, if they only lasted mere seconds on the physical plane. In that life she had felt a strength of spirit that had long since been stolen away from her. She could not pinpoint why or by who. Yet, the Sanctuary had been just that--a Sanctuary. A safe place, where her spirit could gaze upon itself in Truth. And it had been through the lens of her Truth that she had seen so clearly the Lie she had been living.

She stared up at the two doorways. Though the details of that Dream had since faded, she remembered the feelings--and the decisions she had made therein. She was tired of Lies. Tired of compromising her own self for the sake of those who never loved her in return. Her mind once again felt the violet gaze of the little sprite. She swallowed hard, blinking back a tear. 

When Jack had awoken from that Dream she felt changed. It was strange how a single Dream could change one's entire direction. Many a genius had experienced such life-changing Dreams, Jack mused. And now, she stood face to face with the choice to follow the self she had realized in the Dream, or not.

She glanced once more around the hall, to see if anyone else was coming. It was as still as ever. She looked back at the bathhouse. Her heart raced, making its presence known, as she pondered whether to break it once again or not. She closed her eyes, tightening her grip on the effects in her hands.

Fuck it.

She clenched her jaw and tiptoed toward the women's side of the baths. She crept around the divider to the entrance, and poked her head inside. Her heart skipped when she found the bath to be completely empty. A relieved smile spread across her face, and she cast one last glance over her shoulder before going inside. 

A final survey of the room revealed her initial assessment to be correct and she finally, slowly, let out the breath that she had been holding. Glee bubbled up in her stomach, replacing the anxiety, as she set her effects down on one of the wooden benches, and she soon found herself practically prancing around the room as she took a look around.

The bathhouse was small and humble. Only a few benches, buckets, and a pool of cool water. A notable feature of the bath was a natural waterfall that had been directed to run into the pool. Presumably, the waterfall ran into both sides of the structure, split across sides by a series of carved stones and wooden chutes. 

Jack stripped with a measure of newfound confidence, tossing her soiled clothes into the basket she had found in the trunk and delicately laying out the new ones upon one of the benches. She took a moment to admire their appearance before spinning around to scoop up one of the buckets lining the troughs of water, which could be filled using an old-fashioned water pump. The rustic nature of the place, and even the cold temperature of the water, did little to dampen her mood (although the cold water did come as a shock at first, drawing out an excited little 'yip' as she poured the first bucket-full) as she began to rinse the muck from her slender body. She began to hum and wiggle her toes to some half-remembered tune as she gently wiped away the filth, wincing as she dabbed along the scrapes on her knees, and as she gingerly began to peel away the tucking tape and soiled gauze. She breathed a great sigh of relief, gently nursing the raw and tender skin of her lower regions with a few long, cold compresses. And, with one final exhale of solidarity, she lowered herself into the water of the bath at last.

The cold water stung her legs, and her groin, and it was a bit of a trial to find a comfortable way to sit. Yet patience would prevail and at last she was able to lean back and breathe a sigh of relief.

The cool water flowed gently around Jack, flowing out beneath a lip in the bathhouse wall and vanishing beyond it, presumably draining into some secret place somewhere in the deepest regions of the caverns. Right now, she did not care to think of the construction of the place. She imagined the pains of the day--or night... or... however long had passed--slowly drifting from her body and beyond the bathhouse walls, off to some unseen place. Jack sighed and allowed herself a blissful moment of peace. The stillness of the night, and the gentle flow of the water around her carried her thoughts once more to that Dream.

She saw herself standing in a vast temple, before a sunlit statue of a rotund man bearing an elephant's head and a conch. The face of the being was familiar. She stood before him and stared into his set of four eyes, which shone like aquamarine. As she stood, she felt a light presence behind her. When she turned to face the being behind her, she was suddenly overcome with a wave of both fear and...love. It burned like ice, yet...somehow it salved her spirit too.

Jack opened her eyes. She was uneasy. She continued to feel that familiar ache in her heart. It was a similar feeling to the one she got whenever Omi stared at her with those hopeful eyes of his. She turned about to rest her arms on the bath's edge, folded beneath her chin as she thought. Once again she had the tune of a familiar song in her head. She could not remember the words, though she found herself humming it all the same. It was the same song which had been in her mind when she had awoken in the dungeon earlier on. It comforted her, like a mysterious and soothing spell.

She allowed herself to hum for a while, as she sat and enjoyed the water's feeling. Then at last she got to the work of truly washing herself down. In a way, she felt like she was cleansing more than just her body as she washed. 

Yet all good things must reach an end. Washed and refreshed in more ways than one, she quietly slipped from the waters of the bath, listening carefully for any other visitors. There were none. Once dry, and after doing an obligatory dance of sorts to stave off the cold as she dried herself, Jack held up the gifted clothes. She was delighted to find the undergarments a perfect fit. At last she made her way back to her room, undetected, wrapped in the new blouse and feeling much better than before.

Usually, the prospect of sleeping on a stone bed would have been disagreeable to Jack, but she hardly even noticed. In only a matter of minutes from the time that Jack's head hit the pillow, she had fallen once more into a deep and dreamless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

"The time for rising and shining is NOW!"

The voice of Omi cut into Jack's sleep and she opened her eyes to find his ridiculous face only a few inches from her own. She blinked at him, too tired to actually glare. Then she rolled over and pulled the covers over her head.

"No! Jack Spicer! It is morning and time to start another day!" Omi said with fervor and attempted to pull down her covers.

God. Why?

"How can you be so sure? It's always dark here..." Jack yawned, pulling the covers from his grasp and placing them over her head again.

"The morning bell has rung. We must do morning exercises. And then there are many places to explore this day. And we must speak with our mysterious host!" Omi chittered.

Jack opened her eyes and stared hard at the grey wall. She felt as if she had only laid her head down moments ago.

"I am sure our 'mysterious host' will come and get me if it's important..." Jack mumbled and snuggled further under the blanket.

"Nooo!" Omi piped. "Jack Spicer, the world's fate hangs in the balance and only we can save it!"

Jack lifted a finger and pointed at Omi over her shoulder. "Correction. Only YOU can save it. Wake me up after it's over." She yawned again.

There was another tug on her blankets; Omi held them and did not let go.

"But, Jack Spicer. The mysterious warrior said it is YOUR help that is needed most of all."

Jack opened her eyes and then she rolled over to see Omi staring hard at her with an earnest expression. A feeling of annoyance came over her. She glared at the monk, suddenly resenting him and everything that was happening.

"No one. Needs. My help." She said finally and tried to take the covers back. Omi held on. He had an infuriatingly strong grip for one so small.

"Hey Omi!" Kimiko's voice came from the hall. She poked her head in to find the monk and Jack in what appeared like a staring contest. "Hey. Leave the angry teenager alone. I want to take a look around before breakfast."

"But..." Omi began.

"Come ON. Forget him." Kimiko was eager to poke around, and possibly learn some things about their mysterious captors.

Omi gave Jack a small frown of disappointment and then followed Kimiko out of the room. Jack watched him go, her annoyance subsiding. She rolled back over, determined to get a bit more sleep, however her body seemed to be awake now. She tried, futily, to cuddle under the covers for a few more minutes before finally rising.

She had laid the blouse gently upon the trunk the night before, just before going to sleep, so as not to wrinkle it. Now she stood and held it up again. It was a strange thing, but she was already growing rather attached to it. It wasn't her usual style but she felt happy holding it.

The fabric felt light and soft upon her fair skin, sliding over it like water. She gently fastened the front, tracing the wooden beads with her fingers. They were smooth and had a shine to them, as if someone else's fingers had already conditioned them over long years of use. The chest of the blouse buckled awkwardly on her flat frame--she had nothing to fill it. She decided to unbutton it, leaving only the lower half of the blouse fastened, and with the sash cinched around her tiny waist the effect was satisfactory. The blouse hung lightly upon her shoulders, and the open front formed an attractive V down to where the sash hugged her waist. The loose fit above and below the sash formed a lovely hourglass shape, creating the illusion that she had more hips than she actually did. 

She unfolded the pants and tried to fiddle with them in various ways for some time, however nothing seemed to feel right. They were too long for her. Finally she gave up and placed them back upon the trunk. Jack sorely wished she had a full-length mirror. The blouse was long enough that it could serve as a small dress on her slender form. 

Carefully, keeping an eye on the open doorway, she withdrew her pocket medical kit from her jacket. Inside of it was more tape and gauze. She might be able to pull off the look, if she did a decent job of tucking...

Jack paused behind the folding screen, shielded for the time being from any prying eyes. She imagined the looks she might receive and a familiar sense of panic arose in her stomach, her eyes burning briefly with tears of frustration. She set the tape and gauze aside and leaned glumly on the window sill. Several moments passed. She stared down at her toes. Their nails were painted black, just like her fingernails. Her skin seemed so fair and white against the gloomy grey stones beneath her feet. Pretty as porcelain. She gave a half-hearted smile and looked out the window.

Below her window she could see the many terraces of the sanctuary descend below and away, off into the gloomy darkness. A shaft of light came from somewhere above and illuminated a silver waterfall that ran down the side of the cavern in the distance. If she listened, she could hear the hushed whisper of water throughout the underground city. It seemed to shush her the way a mother might shush their crying child. She sat and listened. 

Jack brought her knees to her chest and held them as she leaned on the window's frame, gazing out at the shadows and light. Glinting fires could still be seen throughout the temple and its little city beyond, like warm colored stars. She decided in this moment that she rather liked this place. Cut off from the cares of the above world, she could almost allow herself to forget her fears, safe and hidden away in the deep gloom. 

Jack examined the hem of her sleeve. It was a pretty color of gold, and it appeared almost silver in this light. She absently poked at the bruises and cuts upon her knees, which appeared much better than they had yesterday. She was without her full makeup kit, so she would have to keep her scars exposed. Her whole body was covered with light nicks and old scars here and there. Usually one could not see them unless serious scrutiny was given, however she always made an effort to cover the worst of them. If she wore just the blouse today, some of her worst scars would remain visible. She had a particularly bad one on the inside of her left thigh. An old chemical burn, however it could only be seen if she spread her legs. 

Jack pushed up her left sleeve to examine her wrist. A series of horizontal slashes decorated her underarm in perfect intervals, some newer than others and still visible. A long dark scar ran down the length of her wrist, above its major vein. It covered up an older scar just like it, and a few others that had come to bisect her wrist horizontally over the years. She sighed and pulled her sleeve down again. 

The young genius rubbed her hands together in the chilly air as she thought, and an idea occurred to her. She unrumpled her jacket, which was a bit of a sorry sight by now, covered in dust and dried mud. With a bit of work she was able to tear a few strips away from its hem. She had many jackets just like this one so she did not mind destroying it--she had a habit of going through them quicker than your average teenager. The strips acted as perfect accessories to wrap around her wrists and hands. She wrapped another strip around her upper left thigh, covering the burn. Feeling a bit better, she stepped behind the screen again.

"No one ever made progress by staying in their comfort zone." she said to herself.

Her skin around her groin was still sore, however she managed to get herself situated once more, and she was pleased to find the tuck still rather comfortable. She felt better now. With a bit of assistance from her pocket mirror, and some spare eyeliner--which she ALWAYS carried on her person like any good, self-respecting goth--she was fit to step out into the world once more.

Jack peered into the hallway first, to see if anyone was there. No one. As usual. She began to wonder if she had imagined all the masked people out in the greater complex. They never seemed to be around when she was. Nevertheless, their absence calmed her nerves, though her heart still raced, and, with a deep breath, she stepped from the room. 

Her satin shoes made barely a sound upon the stone floors as she wandered down the grey hall, giving her more confidence to explore. She gazed upon the stonework as she wandered. It was simple, like her lodgings. The whole place had a utilitarian feel, however there were portions of it where efforts had been made to bring a reserved beauty into the architecture. Thin lines of geometry and gently curved designs were carved into most walls, along their base and around passage doors. The stone floors also bore such patterns, which became complex geometric pictures in places of prominence such as the junction of halls. There were many halls, all arched and with a soothing sense of repetition in their design. 

In the midst of her meandering she came across a worn tapestry, old but well-kept. It was black and gold, and it bore an image of a beautifully embroidered taijitu*, also known as a 'yin-yang symbol', the Tao icon of Balance and All Things. Images of grey birds fluttered around the edges of the design, similar to those which adorned the garment she wore. It seemed as though the tapestry was telling a story, however she could not discern its meaning.

As she wandered, she heard a low, clear bell ring out across the temple space. Its sound echoed down the corridors perfectly, carried further in their halls than it would have normally been able to travel. Nothing appeared to change after it rang out and she vaguely wondered what its purpose could have been. 

At last, she found herself back out upon the terraces by which they had entered this section of the temple. Ambling to their edge, she was given a good view down into the city. Many such terraces were arranged along the temple's construction, and she wondered if they were also apartments of some kind.

'What an interesting place...' she wondered.

"Jack Spicer--"

A voice came from behind and Jack let out a loud scream. She spun about to see one of the masked people looking rather startled. This person was dressed differently than the others. She--her voice had seemed feminine though it was difficult to see what her biological gender was--was clad in a simple set of robes, black and white-hemmed, not the tight-fitting combat clothes of the warriors. Her mask also bore different markings than that of others. It was entirely white with simple, black designs on it.

The masked person stammered for a moment, then resumed her speech. She seemed nervous speaking to Jack.

"Um. Breakfast has been served. I am to bring you to dine with the others."

She led Jack through a maze of corridors to come at last to a greater hall. It was clearly a place for dining. Long, low, stone tables filled the space. Jack did not know it, but this was actually one of the smaller dining halls in the underground complex. 

In the corner of the room sat the monks, and with them was Dojo. They were all laughing and chattering to one another over a humble yet plentiful spread of food. Jack's neck suddenly became hot, and she almost declined to eat, seeing the monks sitting there. Her stomach, however, felt as though it might come up through her mouth and punch in the throat if she refused. The food smelt so good. With a tight jaw, she followed the robed person up to the table where the other teenagers sat. She noticed with a rising feeling of discomfort that they had also been given new clothes, though their robes were much plainer than her own. The other children looked up from their chatterings at her approach. 

She had a choice to make, and she decided to hold her head a bit higher and appear completely unfazed by their presence. With a look of nonchalance, she sat down upon one of the mats beside the table. Of course, the nearest open spot HAD to be beside Omi.

The little monk smiled at her arrival and said chipperly, "Good morning, friend Jack!"

Jack ignored his comment and reached for the nearest serving dish. With some annoyance Jack noticed that Omi continued to stare at her. She made a show of cooly serving her food, not looking at him, and she began to eat. The other monks finished a few statements from their previous conversation, and then Raimundo spoke up.

"What's wrong, Jack? They forget to give you the other half of your pajamas?" He poked fun at Jack's repeated statements over the years referring to their monk garb as pajamas.

Jack's face became hot, and she seriously hoped she was not blushing. The grip on her chopsticks tightened. She suddenly wanted to be back in her room. A feeling of anger rose in her throat toward the warrior in grey, Lyn. If only she had been given robes like the other monks. Why did she have to always be different? A few responses flickered through her mind. She considered saying that they must not have had her size, but that sounded lame.

"I chose to wear this." She said. Her response came out cool and unaffected, and she was surprised by it. She calmly took another mouthful of food.

Raimundo also appeared a bit surprised by her response, and by her lack of a reaction to his comment. He shrugged and the monks resumed talking about things Jack did not really hear. She was focused on her food, and she was making a concerted effort not to engage. Omi was the only one who seemed to pay much mind to her presence. 

This is usually how it went when she and the monks hung out. They had gone a few times in the past for ice cream together, her treat. But by the end of the outing she usually resigned herself to simply listening to them talk about whatever they wanted. She inserted occasional comments but she never felt comfortable enough to fully engage. Only Omi ever seemed to want to talk to her specifically.

Jack took another bite. The main dish was the same she had been given the night before. It was some kind of rice-based porridge. It had a few indiscernible spices in it, and its flavor was subtle and slightly sweet. After only a few mouthfuls, she was already feeling more relaxed. She felt warm and revitalized as she ate, despite the persistently chilly air of the temple. All things about this place seemed to be subtle. Even the tea was some form of white tea, soft, mellow, and fresh in flavor. Fresh fruits added a splash of color to the spread, however Jack noticed that no meat was present in any of the food there.

Their breakfast was cut short by the arrival of another warrior, this one clad entirely in black with a white mask. He requested that they finish and follow him. He led them across the temple, through halls and over a crossing, into another section of the complex. They came to a twilit garden, open and shimmering with a strange collection of plant life. It was illuminated by peculiar crystal lamps that appeared as tiny stars in the low light. The foliage in the garden was similar to that found elsewhere in China, however it came in variations of blues and violets not seen above ground. Softly glowing mushrooms glittered throughout the garden, lighting the paths in addition to the crystal lanterns. 

Jack puzzled at the lanterns in particular. They were clearly made of a material unfamiliar to her, perhaps some kind of phosphorous crystal. She had wanted to stop and examine one more closely but it was clear by the purposeful stride of their guide that this was not an option. 

They were brought to a large octagonal structure, more ornately carved than any other building she had yet seen in the temple. Crystal lamps illuminated the steps leading up to its arched entrance, and a ring-shaped pool flowed around the base of the structure, passing beneath them. Each face of the structure bore an entrance just like this one, and stationed beside each entrance were two guards, one dressed in black and one in white, and each bearing a light pole weapon. The guards made no acknowledgement of the visitors' presence as their guide led them into the structure.

Inside, the building was domed. Another crystal was set into the ceiling, illuminating the room in soft, grey light. The smoke of incense filled the space, creating an ethereal haze throughout. Most notably, however, was its center. A few shallow steps descended into a large octagonal room, with mats set around the base of the steps. In the center was a shallow depression in which rested a wide tray of black sand. The sand shimmered with flecks of gold, silver, and white. And beside the tray stood the warrior in grey, Lyn. She bade them come close and dismissed the guide.

"Welcome, Chosen Ones. You stand now in one of our most sacred places." Lyn said as the monks and Jack stepped into the central chamber. Her voice was calm and austere, as usual, however it contained a note of pride. "These are the Oracle Sands. They have guided our Order for generations." She bade them sit. Most of the children began to sit however Raimundo remained standing.

"Are you going to tell us what all of this is about. And whether you have decided to KILL us or not, yet?" He said with folded arms. The other children paused and looked at the grey warrior.

Lyn sat and calmly replied, "The decision of the council still remains to be seen. That they have granted you passage in our home, though, is an encouraging sign." Lyn placed her hand near the floor, as Dojo crept to her side. She continued with the sound of a smile in her voice, "Indeed. You have Dojo to thank for that." She allowed the dragon to slither up her arm and she gently stroked his head. He gave a small dragon-like purr, and she smiled. "The favorable word of a sacred dragon is no small testament to one's character. And it carries much weight with our council."

Dojo preened and gave a pleased expression. "Aw. You aren't anything to sneeze at either, Lyn." He turned to the monks. "I'm sure you monks will be fine. What with both Lyn and I putting a good word in for you." Lyn gave Dojo another scratch under the chin and he took a comfortable seat wrapped around her shoulder.

Raimundo gave an incredulous look, considering Dojo's words, then joined the others in their seated circle.

"But what about Jack?" Kimiko asked, wondering why the evil genius had been allowed out of the dungeon with them. Jack, admittedly, had the same question in her mind.

"I vouched for Jack." Lyn replied.

Jack gave the woman a surprised--and confused--look, but Lyn continued speaking before any further questions could be asked,

"Millennia ago, when man was but a little thing, still crawling from his cave, it is said that there was a great battle waged in the celestial realms amongst the gods. The sky fell during the course of their battle, and with it the blood that was spilt from their holy forms. The world was decimated by the conflict, and it was only by the grace of the great goddess of life, Nü Wa*, that the world and sky were made whole again. As she knit the earth and stars back into place, she set forth five sacred stones to realign the Earth's directions. It is also said that she left the holy blood that was spilt as a gift to mankind. With it, man would be able to harness the energies of the world, and the sacred directions." 

"By Her grace and that of her brother, Fu Xi, man learned many things, including the craft by which to use this heavenly substance, which has been called many names over the years: the philosopher's stone, or the Blood of the Gods. However, among those who know during this day and age, it is most often called Draconium, named for the sacred dragon goddess."

Lyn paused and stretched her hand out toward the tray of sand as she spoke, and positioned it upon a crystal set into the floor along one of the tray's eight sides. She let forth a small pulse of energy, and the sands began to move as if being blown by some wind that none of them could feel. The sands arranged themselves into the form of a dragon, and from the dragon came forth five symbols: the Chinese characters for the Wu Xing elements.

"As time went on, great men, masters and sorcerers, became skilled in the arts of these directions, these elements, the Wu Xing. One such man was Grand Master Dragon Dashi. He even learned to create items of great magical power using his skills and the crafting of Draconium." Lyn smiled beneath her mask. "You are already familiar with his work."

"The Shen Gong Wu..." Omi said quietly.

Lyn nodded, "Yes. Grand Master Dashi used these creations to harness the energies of the world, as a gift to mankind, to be used for good. I am sure you all know the rest of this story."

Omi's hand shot up, as if in school, and he jumped to his feet to excitedly relay the rest of the tale,

"Yes! Grand Master Dashi created the Shen Gong Wu to be used for Good, however the evil witch, Wuya, took them and attempted to use them for great Evil. Wuya corrupted Dashi's original purpose, and the two fought. Then, using his Shen Gong Wu, Dashi sealed Wuya away for 1500 years, inside of a magic puzzle box. Then he hid the Wu throughout the world, and created the Xiaolin Dragons, to protect them from ever being used for Evil again." Omi spoke quickly and with great animation. He sat down again when finished and looked very pleased with himself.

"Teacher's pet..." Jack sneered.

"That is only partially correct, Omi," Lyn replied.

Omi's eyes became big, and he appeared most distressed. "It IS?" He looked down, shocked, confused and even a bit disappointed with himself.

"The tale you told is the one taught by the monks of the Xiaolin Order. There is another telling." Lyn gazed toward the sands once again. They shifted their imagery to produce the image of five people. "Many years ago, five warriors were Chosen, foretold to drastically impact the balance of the world. Most well-known among these was Dashi, who would become the first Xiaolin Grand Master Dragon. With him were three others that you already know: Chase Young, who was to be the Dragon of Fire; Master Monk Guan, who was to be the Dragon of Water; and Wuya, meant to be the Dragon of Earth."

"Whoa! Hold on." Jack interrupted. There was a similar cry of surprise from the other teenagers. "You're telling me... Wuya was a Xiaolin warrior? Not just that, but a Dragon like these losers? On the side of Good?" Jack said in disbelief. "I mean, not to ruin your story, but that doesn't sound like her."

"Wuya never obtained the title of Dragon." Lyn said. "She left their ranks before that, betraying them, and deciding instead to pursue a path of unfettered power."

Jack settled back down, "Ah. Yeah. THAT sounds like her."

"Yeah... You know, I never liked her." Dojo commented. "Even from the beginning. Though she always had really great hair. I mean, it was almost unnatural how great her hair was... I guess that's a sure sign that SOMETHING is up, am I right?" the dragon stroked his beard as he spoke.

Lyn ignored Dojo's comments and continued on, "There was one other who was chosen: Mei-Lian, who was to be the Dragon of Wood. She left shortly after the battle between Dashi and Wuya, and it is she who became the first of my Order. As Dashi continued on to train more Dragons with the sole purpose of protecting the Shen Gong Wu, she receded into the shadows, continuing to uphold their original purpose: to maintain the Balance of the world. And THAT purpose is why I have brought you here."

Lyn cast her gaze upon the sands and they shifted once more. An image of the Earth appeared against a black sky, beside the moon and amid silver stars, and then a large mass appeared between the Earth and Sun. "In only a matter of months, a calamity like the one which first sundered the world shall strike--an asteroid named Apophis shall strike the Earth, destroying nearly half the planet." 

All listening gave alarmed and questioning looks, however Lyn continued on in a solemn tone, "And worse yet," Lyn said, "this is no ordinary asteroid. It is comprised primarily of Draconium, the vestige of a dead god. Already we have seen its effects on the world's energetic field as it approaches."

"And... You have seen this?" Omi asked. "How?"

"I have not personally seen it, however my Order's head council, which we call The Voice of Tao, is able to See many things. They have seen the coming of Apophis. Yet they are not the only ones." Lyn's voice became grave and ominous, "It seems that Chase Young has also Seen its coming. On the day that I brought you to this place, he set his plans into motion."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Kimiko asked.

Lyn bowed her head in shame, "We learned of his plans too late. The Wu that all of you and Wuya fought over in the jungles of Borneo provided the perfect distraction for Chase Young to enact his plan. While you fought, he infiltrated your Xiaolin Temple and stole two Wu."

"What?!" The monks cried in unison, "Dojo?" the monks looked to the dragon. He had a grim expression.

"It's true. That nasty bit of weather we experienced? You know, just before Lyn and her people knocked all of you out?" Dojo said.

"Yeah..." Raimundo grimaced at the reminder of their loss.

"Turns out that was courtesy of Chase Young..." Dojo said gravely.

"Well what Wu did he take?" Clay asked.

"The Lunar Locket and the Golden Finger," Lyn replied.

"Just those two? What could he possibly want those for?" Kimiko asked.

"Is it that hard to imagine?" Lyn said, "With those Wu, he has already shifted the position of the Moon, and locked it in place. He has set it directly in the path of Apophis."

Jack suddenly brightened and exclaimed, "He's going to destroy the Moon? That's so Evil, I love it!" Everyone else in the room stared hard at her. She coughed nervously, "Er. Well. I mean. You gotta admit it's KINDA cool."

"The destruction of the Moon will have disastrous effects on the planet," Lyn continued, "and what is worse, when Apophis collides with it, the asteroid shall be shattered. A new rain of Divine Blood shall occur, throwing the world's magical field into disarray, and altering the world's Balance forever."

"Well how can we stop it?" Kimiko asked in earnest, "Chase already has the Lunar Locket... Maybe the Ruby of Ramses could--"

"Shen Gong Wu shall not avail you this time," Lyn interjected, "The proximity of such vast amounts of Draconium so close to the planet shall render Shen Gong Wu virtually useless. As Apophis approaches, the magical field of the Earth shall become increasingly volatile and to use any Wu would be extremely dangerous."

"Well hold on," Clay said, "I thought you said Chase is using the Locket and Finger to keep the Moon in the place he wants."

"Yes. It would have been more dangerous for him to move the moon when Apophis was closer. We can only assume that Chase must have found a way to maintain the Wu's effects now that the moon has been moved, despite Apophis' approach." Lyn replied, "Either way, the impending threat of Apophis promises absolute destruction."

The teenagers exchanged uneasy glances with one another, and Jack shifted uncomfortably. Figures. Just when she had determined in her heart to get revenge on Chase Young for all his past abuse, he goes and does something so cool... She gritted her teeth at the thought of Chase ruling the world without her... With that smug, dragon grin of his... And those dragon eyes. And that long, beautiful hair flowing in the Evil storms sure to be produced by such a calamity, as the entire world falls into darkness--

"Um, ma'am?" Clay interrupted Jack's thoughts, "I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say that I'm mighty flattered you thought to ask for our help with this, but... Well, if even Shen Gong Wu aren't any use here, how are we supposed to stop something like that?"

Lyn sighed patiently. She turned to the sands again. They changed to depict the Earth, with a great swirling dragon in its center. Around it appeared five figures. "There have always been five warriors Chosen in times of great calamity. Five Dragons, in service to the great goddess. Five, for each of the five Wu Xing elements. Even long before Shen Gong Wu, these Five have been chosen to maintain the world's Balance." The sands shifted to depict the five figures, with hands linked in a circle. Between them formed a brilliant star, which shifted into the image of a slowly rotating taijitu. Lyn looked upon the children, "All five elements must be present to preserve absolute Balance. Five Dragons. Five elements." Five elemental symbols came to rest beside each of the figures.

The monks looked upon the mandala. Then Kimiko spoke, puzzled. "There are five elements listed here. But there are only four of us."

Lyn tilted her head, pausing briefly before replying,

"I see five before me," she said. Lyn looked toward Jack, and the others followed her gaze.

Jack had been watching the spinning taijitu with mesmerized fascination, one arm folded across her chest and the other hand upon her chin in a thoughtful expression. She blinked suddenly upon realizing that everyone was staring at her. There was a long and uncomfortable silence.

Then Omi's laughter filled the chamber, "Oh, you are most humorous! I did not realize that you have a sense of humor. Jack cannot be a DRAGON! He does not even know Tai Chi!" Omi continued to laugh. No one else joined him. Especially not Lyn.

Jack did not know whether to join in laughing or not. She felt ill-at-ease. Though she could not see Lyn's face, she could tell that the warrior still had that deep, piercing expression as always, and she was staring hard at Jack. Jack cast a glance around the room.

"Uh, Omi?" Clay said, "I don't think she's kidding."

Now it was Jack's turn to laugh, "Dragon? Jack Spicer? Right! Ahaha! Lady, I think you're a bit sheltered living down in this hole." Jack gave a smug grin, hiding her unease, "See. Being all 'Good' and saving the 'balance of the planet'? That's THEIR job. Good, plus Jack Spicer?" Jack made a gesture with her hands to illustrate her words, "Don't mix."

"There is more to the world's Balance than Good." Lyn said evenly, "And there is more to this Existence than simple Good and Evil. Great power lies in the liminal spaces of this world, and it is those that dare to tread the Grey Paths who shall discover the Universe's most precious secrets."

"Look, lady. I don't even know you. And it's pretty clear that you don't know anything about me. So let me spell it out." Jack hissed, "Me, with them, will never happen in a million years. I don't care if the world is about to blow up, or, whatever." Jack stood, ready to leave.

"But I do know you..." Lyn said quietly.

Jack paused. Now she was uncomfortable AND annoyed. She looked back just long enough to give the woman a glare and a scoff before turning to leave.

"The scar on your left leg," Lyn whispered quietly, but firmly, keeping her gaze upon the sands, "You got it when you brought chemicals to school in the fourth grade with the intention to set off a bomb in the desk of one of your classmates. But another student, a young girl, interrupted you as you were putting it together. She knocked the chemicals over, setting off an explosion and spilling excess chemicals onto your leg. You pushed her out of the way just in time to keep her from suffering any damage. When approached by the teacher about what had happened, you told him that you had set the bomb off on purpose, and that a slip of the hand had caused your burn. You never told anyone that the other student was involved."

Jack froze. She turned and stared at the grey warrior in horror and disbelief. Lyn continued to speak, looking upon Jack and removing her mask, to allow Jack to see her face. As she spoke, the faint glimmer of tears could be seen around the rims of her eyes. She continued,

"You wished for a bird on your eighth birthday. Your parents got you one but when you came home from robotics camp that spring, the bird had died. Your parents had forgotten to feed it. You would later program all of your bots with basic animal care routines."

Tears of confusion and fear began to form in Jack's eyes. Yet the warrior continued on,

"You're afraid to walk through the house at night. The artifacts whisper to you. The sword at the end of the hallway by your room is your least favorite."

"How... How do you..." Jack tried to ask. Her heart had begun to race.

Lyn forced an awkward smile and her voice was strained. It was clear that this was difficult for her too.

"I... It was my task to watch over you," Lyn said hesitantly.

"What...What the hell are you talking about?" Jack said weakly.

"When the Chosen Ones of this age began to reveal themselves, twelve years ago, the Xiaolin Council began their search for the ones who were destined to become this next generation of Dragons. They, however, were not the only ones to begin their search." Lyn looked down at the now-still Oracle Sands as she recalled past events, "As each Chosen One was awakened, my Order also kept its eyes upon the world, watching and waiting. The Xiaolin monks found each of the others--water, fire, wood, earth. But the last chosen child eluded them. By the time that my Order found you, you had been hidden from the eyes of the Xiaolin. The Order of Tao has magics other than that of Xiaolin or Heylin, so we were able to locate you when they could not. Outside of the Xiaolin Council's grasp as you were, I was tasked with watching over you."

Jack stared at the woman in disbelief. Why was this happening...? This woman was speaking words to her, but she could not digest them. She was there? Her entire life? Jack reflected on all that had happened over the course of her existence--and she became immediately angry.

"You were there...?" She whispered. "This whole time?" Jack's voice began to shake as the tears welled, "You were there this whole time? Watching me? And... And..." She gritted her teeth and the tears began to fall in earnest, "And you didn't do anything?"

Lyn's face changed. A pained expression came into the thin lines of her countenance, and she suddenly looked much older.

Jack clenched her teeth and her fists. She looked down and away, trying to blink back the tears of anger.

"This whole time. You just WATCHED?" Jack threw her gaze upon the warrior with a sudden, tempestuous fury. Her sudden rage actually frightened her but she had lost the ability to think clearly. The tears did not stop and she found it difficult to speak through them. Every memory of her life came rushing to the forefront of her mind, leaving her paralyzed. Every moment of sadness. Isolation. Anger. Despair. She remembered all the times she had cried to herself, lamenting the loneliness in her heart. Yet this woman had been there, WATCHING, the entire time.

"Stay away from me." Jack muttered.

"Jack..." Lyn tried to speak.

"Stay the FUCK away from me!" Jack screamed, "I... I want to leave. Kill me. Whatever. I want out of this shit hole!" Jack began to back away, tripping on one of the steps. She caught herself and looked desperately around, "Just--leave me the fuck ALONE!" She turned and ran from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * taijitu - The symbol for universal harmony and duality in Taoism. The black, yin, bears a dot of white. The white, yang, bears a dot of black. Yin is receptive, and it represents earth, water, moon, night, passivity, yielding, softness, wetness, recession. Yang is projective, and it represents fire, sky, sun, daytime, aggressiveness, warmth, expansion. White symbolizes delusion and black enlightenment. The taijitu also demonstrates in its continuous rotation the cycle of death and rebirth. Wherever there is Life, there is Death. And wherever there is Death, there is Life.
> 
> * Nü Wa - The primogenitrix of humanity and mother goddess of life and order in Chinese mythology. She is often represented as having a serpentine, or dragon-like, body with the upper half of a fair maiden. She is associated with the Heavens, and her brother is Fu Xi, associated with the Earth.


	6. Chapter 6

Just as before, the guards outside the Oracle Sands' chamber paid Jack no mind as she rushed past them, her tears falling to the ground as she ran. She did not know where she was going. The gardens, so beautiful before, appeared like a cage to her. This entire place felt like a cage. She was alone. She was always alone. She had never needed anyone.

Jack made for the garden's exit, the mental map in her head availing itself to her as she traversed corridor and crossing. She passed the Temple's denizens here and there, but they, like everyone else, paid her no heed. At last she came to the edge of one of the terraces, from which could be seen the entire city. 

Jack stopped, gasping for breath. She was Jack Spicer. Lone, evil genius... She needed no one. She knelt by the edge of the terrace, pressing her forehead against its stone rail, looking out upon the tangled streets below and she began to sob. She did not fully understand why she was crying; she rarely did, it just happened. Yet another thing in her life that she would never control. 

All the years flooded over her like a cruel and unrelenting tide. Somewhere inside something was breaking--it had been breaking for years--and now the flood waters had been released. She turned and sat against the rail. Whether anyone heard her cries, she did not know. The cavern remained silent as ever. Now the sound of her own suffering was the only thing in her ears.

Life wasn't fair. Not to her. She pulled back her sleeve and stared at the scars on her wrist. Another sob choked her throat and staunched her breath. Jack closed her eyes and let her body go limp, letting it quake while the waves of sorrow buffeted her small and trembling frame. She was done. She did not care what happened to her at that moment. She just wanted out. Jack gripped her wrist, as the tears continued to fall, pressing her hand hard upon her scars while the ache in her chest consumed her body.

Jack did not know how long she sat curled against that cold, stone railing. Eventually she lay in a ball on her side, staring at the patterned stones of the terrace. No soul passed her by. No words were spoken to her. There were only the thoughts of her own mind. She was tired. So tired. She curled tighter, hugging her knees, which still ached from the day spent kneeling on the iron grate in the dungeon. Her throat and chest hurt from sobbing, and a dull ache spread through her body. She shivered. Once again, the cold of the cavern and the stones beneath her seeped into her bones and spirit. 

After her shoulder had gone numb from lying on the cold terrace cobbles for so long Jack sat up. Massaging it absently, she slowly made her way back to her lodgings.

As she neared the terrace, she saw the Xiaolin monks gathered outside the hall of apartments. She stopped upon its edge. The monks paused their conversation and looked over at her. They stood, staring in silence at one another for several long and wordless moments. Then Jack cast her gaze back upon the stones beneath her feet and passed them by.

"Jack Spicer!" The sound of Omi's voice came from behind her. Jack shut her eyes. Not now, Omi.

Jack continued walking to her room, as if she had heard nothing. She stopped suddenly when Omi appeared in front of her. He looked intent to speak however Jack simply went around him.

"Jack." Omi said again.

"Not in the mood..." She growled.

Then a tug came on her hand and Jack looked down. Omi held her hand in both of his. She sighed, too emotionally exhausted to make any bristling comment.

"What do you want...?" She resigned.

Omi opened his mouth, paused, then closed it. He had a concerned expression, but he did not seem to know what he actually wanted to say. Jack pulled her hand from his and continued to her room. 

In her room, she slumped onto the stone bed, pulled the covers up around her, and faced the wall. A few minutes passed before Jack felt a poke in the middle of her back. She made an annoyed face but adamantly remained facing the wall. Omi stood behind her, unsure what to say. He felt compelled to help, though he did not know how. Jack was a complicated person to him.

Jack continued to ignore him and eventually closed her eyes as her fatigue pressed its weight upon her. Then she felt her blankets move. Omi climbed into the bed behind her. She felt his small form cuddle up against her back, beneath the covers. Jack tensed and opened her eyes, and she lay motionless in awkward silence for some time. Omi said nothing, and after a time his breathing slowed. After a long period of holding her breath, Jack carefully, slowly, looked over her shoulder. 

Omi had fallen asleep, nestled beside her. Jack returned to staring at the wall, and eventually her breathing slowed as well, until at last she too fell asleep.

Perhaps only an hour or so passed. Jack awoke to find herself facing the little monk, who was still sleeping peacefully. She blinked, unsure what to do. She watched Omi's sides rise and fall for a little bit as he breathed. He had his hands folded under his head, bearing a contented expression. 

He was warm, compared to the stone bed. She took a gamble and scootched a bit closer to him, holding her breath in hopes that he would not wake up. He did not. He only made a small yawning noise as she came closer, and he burrowed further into the blankets and her chest. Jack immediately blushed, unfamiliar with such contact. She laid there for a good while, trying hard to only breathe very lightly. She had never had anyone cuddle with her like this. Not in recent memory. She vaguely remembered times as a small child, curled up in her mother or father's lap while they read or watched television. And, for some reason, she recalled that same Dream from before. Feelings of warmth, and then she was filled with an ineffable sense of sadness. 

Jack closed her eyes and rested her chin upon Omi's head. Omi stirred and opened his eyes. There was an awkward moment where she felt self-conscious, wondering if she should push the little monk away and act like she had just woken up to find him there. But Omi just gave a contented sigh and resumed his sleep. The moment for Jack to protest passed, so she resigned herself to the continued affection. Her body relaxed and she breathed out cautiously. A soft, sad smile tugged at her mouth, and then she put her arms around the monk and held him close.

After a short while she shifted uncomfortably, and opened her eyes again. She let out a sigh. Toilet... Why was it when you were always the most comfortable and content, or the most engaged in your work, that your body decided it was time for a bio-break? She pushed Omi to the side. He stood as she approached the door. She just mumbled something about the toilet and then said firmly, "DON'T follow me."

Omi was still in her room upon her return. She pretended to pay him little mind, pulling out her compact mirror and checking her face. It was in a state. Streaks of eyeliner ran down her cheek, smeared where she had used her hands to dry her tears. She sighed and used the basin of water to correct the problem. Then Omi laughed good-naturedly as she applied new eyeliner.

"Jack Spicer, you put much time and effort into your appearance. Almost as much time as a girl!" Omi grinned. Jack ignored his comment. "Kimiko also spends much time in front of the mirror. Too much, if I was to be asked. Much time that could be spent practicing kicking and punching, and her Wu Xing element!"

"Well not all of us value violence over presentation," Jack sneered.

"Oh, but kicking and punching is not just about violence!" Omi replied fervently, happy to correct Jack's apparent misunderstanding of the nature of martial arts, "By training the body, a warrior trains his spirit!" Omi leapt into a Tai Chi stance, balanced on one foot on top of the bed. Jack only gave a half-interested grunt as she checked her eye makeup one more time. Omi continued, "The same goes for a Dragon's Wu Xing element. You, friend Jack, shall need much practice to master your element--"

Jack snapped her compact shut and looked at Omi. "Pass." She stuffed the compact away.

Omi released his stance, giving Jack an urgent expression, "But Jack Spicer! You are a Chosen One. It is your destiny to--"

"Do I look like Destiny's bitch to you?" Jack spat.

Omi's arms fell to his side and he gave Jack a confused expression. Jack scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Never mind." She turned to lean upon the table, facing the little monk, "Jack Spicer does what Jack Spicer wants. Not what some crummy old prophecy says to do."

"But Jack. Do you not wish to achieve your absolute potential?" Omi asked.

Jack paused. Admittedly, the question had merit, and it was indeed something she thought about. Jack gave Omi a sour look. "I don't need fancy magic to achieve my potential," she hissed, but her answer was half-hearted.

"But are you not at least a little bit curious to try?" Omi replied.

Jack tightened her grip on the table's edge, and she gave him a sideways glance. "I... No." She said hesitantly. 

There was a pause and then Omi's face shifted into a fierce expression. "Jack Spicer!" Jack was startled by the intensity (and loudness) of his sudden exclamation. He thrust a pointed finger at her. "Why is it that you say you want power, yet you shun the power that already exists inside of yourself? Why do you strive for greatness yet refuse to take it?" The little monk moved his hands emphatically as he spoke. "You are Jack Spicer! Evil boy genius! Prince of darkness! And all of those colorful things which you always call yourself. I believe that you are afraid! Not just afraid to fail, but also afraid of your true self! But you must not give into fear!" He shouted that last sentence, causing Jack to cast a nervous glance toward the door, half expecting someone to come in wondering what all the yelling was about. Omi did not lessen the ferocity of his conviction, and he finished with his fists bunched in a final gesture of fervent determination. "You must not run away from who you truly are on the inside!" 

Omi gave a deep exhale, and Jack stared at the him, speechless. The minuscule monk leapt from the bed and came to stand before her. With a hand upon his breast he said, "But I, as a Xiaolin warrior, and upholder of Good, shall not let you. Because THAT is what friends do." Omi smiled up at Jack sincerely.

Jack blinked at him, at a loss for words, but then found herself smiling back.


	7. Chapter 7

Jack wrung her hands together nervously. She looked at the terrace where the other monks were sparring, keeping their skills sharp while they waited for the Voice's decision. She looked down at Omi. He smiled and placed a tiny hand on her arm. He began to walk toward the others, but, upon noticing that Jack did not follow, he took her hand and led her into the terrace courtyard.

"Hey, Omi! And...Jack." Kimiko said brightly at first but seemed hesitant as her eyes fell upon their eccentric foe. Clay and Raimundo were in the midst of an impressive sparring match, though Clay stopped and smiled at both Omi and Jack. Raimundo attempted to strike Clay while he was distracted, but Clay caught Raimundo's kick and tossed him back the way he came.

"Howdy, little partners," Clay said, tipping his hat to them both.

Jack pressed her fingers together and looked around awkwardly.

"Jack Spicer has decided to practice his Wu Xing element with us," Omi said proudly. The others gave Jack a range of incredulous looks.

"That true?" Clay asked.

Jack tightened her jaw and then assumed an unaffected expression, "I am NOT saying I am going to help any of you with this...'save the world' thing..." She made a gesture of distaste as she said the words, "I am here PURELY for my own benefit." She paused and then said emphatically, thrusting her hands to her hips, "You got that?"

Raimundo raised an eyebrow and offered a smirk, "Sure. Whatever you say."

"So..." Jack began awkwardly. "What do you people do to get this...'magic mojo' going?" She made air quotes with her fingers.

Omi happily replied, thrilled to have a new student to teach--and to which to show off, "First, you must get to know your element!"

Jack counted on her fingers, "Well, you guys have water, fire, wood, and earth... I guess that makes me metal?" Secretly, she decided she liked the idea, though she affected a bored expression. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure I already know my element pretty well. I mean. Robots are kind of my thing."

"Wu Xing elements are more than just the physical elements, Jack," Kimiko said.

"Indeed! You must understand their nature in EVERY aspect!" Omi said enthusiastically.

Jack blinked, "Like... Chemical composition?" She frowned. That was still physical though...

"No." Kimiko said with a giggle, "The ENERGY behind it. Like, their personality!"

"Indeed. You must tune your spirit to resonate with the energy of your element, and by doing so, BECOME the element!" Omi said, demonstrating numerous Tai Chi stances as he spoke.

Jack looked at him with another blank and mildly bored expression, "Yeah... Become the element..."

"What Omi MEANS is that you find the energetic feel of your element, and then you find where that energy lives inside of you." Kimiko offered. "Like me. I connect to my element, Fire, by feeling passion." She leapt into a fighting stance and lifted her hands along her core, "By feeling the Fire inside of me, I let it bubble up and then--BOOM!" She shot a blast of fire from her fist. "Fire!"

Jack looked from her to the others. "So... I just have to 'feel metal' and POOF! Metal magic?" And then a smug expression spread across her face. "Well that should be easy. I'm the most 'metal' person I know." She grinned and made a horned symbol with her hands as she puffed. Jack turned to attempt some magic right then, but then she paused. She looked back at the monks. "Um. What is metal magic supposed to look like?"

The monks exchanged glances.

"You know? I have no idea." Kimiko wondered.

"If only Master Fung were here. He would know more about this..." Raimundo said.

"Well, where's Dojo? He might know more than we do at least." Kimiko looked around and the others mirrored her.

As the monks considered these things, perched upon one of the many gables of the temple was Lyn. She sat, her mask in her lap, observing the youngsters from afar. She gave a small glance of acknowledgement as Dojo slithered up next to her and allowed him to climb into her lap, where she began to scratch behind his ears absently. Dojo happily preened as she did so.

"You know," he finally said, "a person might find secretly watching a bunch of kids from a rooftop a bit... I don't know. Creepy?" He looked up at her, raising one of his dragon eyebrows.

"None of them trust me..." Lyn said softly, only half-hearing his comment. She bore a contemplative face.

"Well yeah. They're teenagers. They hardly trust any adults." Dojo stretched and shifted his head to direct Lyn's fingers to just the right spot on his neck.

"Jack least of all..." Lyn murmured.

"What did you expect? You spent over a decade watching the kid without ever telling him. Not even a note." Dojo gave a candid expression.

"I was forbidden from interacting. I was only meant to ensure Jack's safety. And eventual exposure to the world of magic." Lyn said.

"Well... At least you succeeded in doing that. Doesn't mean the kid will like you." Dojo sighed.

Lyn's expression was distant, and even a bit sad. The two sat in silence for some time.

"I do not know what I expected..." Lyn finally admitted. Dojo looked up at her sympathetically as she continued, "I never thought I would be able to meet my charge so. I suppose..." She faltered, and then sighed. "I suppose that part of me wanted things to be different."

"What? And have Jack just magically accept you? After you did absolutely nothing in his life--from his perspective of course." Dojo said wryly. "Hm. Maybe Jack was right. You have been out of touch with the world."

"As Warriors of Tao we are charged with maintaining the world's Balance, as told by the Voice. Yet we are to do so without ever being known." Lyn said.

"Well. You guys definitely did a great job on that bit. Admittedly, I thought you guys died out centuries ago. What with all that nastiness in the 13th century." Dojo remarked.

Lyn looked down at Dojo, "Did I truly make a mistake in bringing the Chosen Ones to this place? In bringing Jack here?"

Dojo rested his head on his paws, "Well, seeing as the heads of your Order might try to have them executed... I'm just gonna decline to answer that question."

Lyn sighed, "I thought that I would be able to help Jack find the power within... And perhaps stave off this calamity in doing so..." She fastened her mask upon her face, bowing her head, "And then my superiors would see that hope remains."

Dojo looked down at the youngsters upon the terrace below. Omi was demonstrating a Tai Chi stance to Jack, nudging her arms and feet into the correct position. Jack appeared to truly be trying.

"Chin up, Jack Spicer! Feet further apart. No! Not that much apart. Now breathe!" Omi instructed.

"I HAVE been breathing!" Jack muttered.

"Now, focus! Reach inside of yourself. Feel the power within and know that your element is inside of you, just waiting to come out!" Omi said. He moved into another stance, flowing from one to another. Jack tried to mimic his motions as best she could. She tried to do as Omi was saying while she moved. She tried to search inside of herself for anything remotely like a magic element. All she ended up doing was feeling uncomfortable.

"Ugh," She finally groaned, "Yeah. It's not working."

Omi opened his mouth but Kimiko stepped in front of him, "Try to think of the aspects that make metal metal."

Jack thought about it. Metal. If there was anything she knew about it was about metal.

Jack pondered, and then her voice changed, taking on a spark of excitement as she spoke of one of her favorite subjects. "Well. Metal is strong. But it's pliable. And... well, there are 91 metals on the periodic table. The periodic table is MOSTLY metals actually. And...and there are 9 known metalloids, but one of them, Ununoctium is only theoretical." 

"So those are two things about it." Kimiko said. "Metal is strong and it's flexible."

"Well I reckon I know a thing or two about being strong, seeing as how my element is Earth," Clay tipped his hat and said with a humble expression.

* * *

Clay stood beside Jack, in a solid horse stance. "Now, the trick is really feeling the earth beneath your feet." He indicated for Jack to follow his lead. Jack took the same position as him as Clay began to breathe slowly and Jack tried to follow suit.

They stood there for a long time. Standing. Breathing. Standing. Breathing. And standing. And breathing.

Raimundo, who was leaning on the terrace rail and watching alongside the other monks, yawned.

Jack's face was hot. None of this was natural to her. She tried to feel the earth and breathe, but her mind began to wander. She became painfully aware of the other monks watching her. Raimundo looked bored. Omi sat and meditated--upside-down. How does he DO that? she wondered. Doesn't he get a headache? Do monks have the power to regulate their own blood flow...? Would she be able to do that one day? She looked at Kimiko, who was checking her nails. Her nails WERE very pretty. She always painted them in such cute ways. Jack had always wanted to tell Kimiko that she liked her style, but she had never had the courage. She grimaced. Kimiko would probably just think she was being creepy...

This wasn't working either.

Jack tried to hold her stance as best she could, attempting to block out the thoughts, but the more she tried, the stronger they came, and she began to work herself into a panic. The thoughts became gradually worse and worse, turning from random questions to fears. She was failing. Would the others just give up on her? They were helping now. But what if she is just no good at this?

"Do you feel anything?" Clay finally said.

Yeah. She felt mildly ill.

"Uh..." Jack looked sheepish. Then at last she shrugged.

"Clay, your approach only works for you," Raimundo finally said, stepping away from the rail, "Metal isn't just about being solid like a rock, right? It's about being flexible too. And my element is wood, the most flexible of them all."

* * *

"Okay. Stand right there," Raimundo said, positioning Jack in the center of the garden terrace. They had relocated to the garden of the Oracle Sands. 

The guards to the Sands' atrium watched with only mild interest. Maybe. They never seemed to react to anything. And they were wearing masks like everyone else here, so it was difficult to tell...

"What am I supposed to do?" Jack asked.

Raimundo grinned at her and just repeated for her to just stay put. He walked away, to the edge of the clearing in which they stood where the other monks stood and watched by his side.

Jack stood, as instructed. Waiting. She looked around at the gardens and quietly wondered what had been done to these plants to allow them to grow in such an environment. She was sure those odd crystals had something to do with it. She still really wished to get a good look at them. Maybe she could--

Her thoughts were cut off by the rushing whoosh of a dark and vine-like root which had suddenly sprung from the earth beside her feet, ripping through the air only inches from her ear. She looked up at it with some confusion, and then she screamed. The root came down hard upon the spot she had just been standing as she leapt to the side. Another scream escaped her lips as another root sprouted from the earth, also intent on striking her with its whip-like form. She began to run through the clearing, screaming and scrambling over the graveled paths and dark, blue grasses as a forest of vines and roots struck at her and snatched at her arms and legs.

The monks watched her acrobatics with some interest. Raimundo smiled.

"Uh. Rai?" Clay finally said. "You sure you're actually helping Jack?" He watched as Jack shrieked, being lifted bodily into the air by a tangle of roots. They turned her upside-down as she attempted to keep her lower regions covered, holding the bottom part of the blouse in front of her groin. Clay scratched his head, "And not, you know, just torturing him?" Jack continued to cry out, struggling against the roots in vain. The atrium guards watched her with a bored affect.

Raimundo watched the spectacle and rubbed his chin, "Well. If metal is about being flexible, what better way to get Jack's element to come out than by testing his adaptability?"

All in the garden continued to watch as Jack was thrown into the air and as she was caught by another tangle of vines. She cried as she was tossed from one patch of vines to another.

Kimiko sighed, "Rai. This isn't working either. You're just traumatizing him." She gestured to the scene as Jack wailed, upside down again, still trying to keep herself covered. One of the vines pulled at her shoulders and arms, restricting them and twisting them into an unnatural position, and allowing the bottom half of her blouse to fall, revealing her black panties--which, fortunately, the others could not see well from that distance--and leaving her exposed and in pain. 

Rai blinked, rubbing his chin as he took in the scene. Kimiko punched him in the shoulder.

"Alright, alright," He made a motion with his arms. The vines and roots immediately released their victim and withdrew into the earth while Jack plummeted to the ground, landing on her face. She sat up, nursing a bloody nose, as the bell for supper rang. The monks gazed at Jack with varied expressions of disappointment and sighed.

"Well, I guess you can try again tomorrow." Kimiko said. She and the others turned toward the dining hall. Omi came up to Jack and patted her now-bruised shoulder. She winced.

"Do not worry, Jack Spicer. You have the mighty Xiaolin Dragons as your teachers. Even you could not possibly fail at this." He gave her another pat and followed after the others.

Jack glumly watched the group exit the clearing. She looked down at the blood on her hands and her shoulders fell with a sigh.

Jack retired to bed that night feeling very sorry for herself.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning brought more of the same. The monks tried various techniques to awaken Jack's sleeping element but none seemed to work.

Omi took Jack through another series of moving meditations. Then Raimundo and Clay theorized that combining their approaches might yield more success. It did not, although Jack did come out of that session with a fresh set of bruises in addition to an increasingly fragile ego.

At last, the bell for lunch sounded.

Jack sat and poked at her food with her chopsticks, her head resting glumly in her palm. The other monks chatted amongst themselves as they often did, and she only half-listened. She hardly noticed when one of them finally said something to her. When they repeated it, she looked up with a vague expression.

"I asked you to pass the dumplings," Kimiko repeated.

"Oh," Jack passed the plate of dumplings before resuming her mournful rumination.

Kimiko served herself and noticed the young genius staring lowly at her food.

"Don't worry, Jack. You'll get it. You could just be... a late bloomer." Kimiko offered.

Jack looked up at her. "Yeah..." She was not convinced. Something in her gut told her she would never find her element... She set down her chopsticks. "How... How did you all find your elements?"

"Well, I accidentally lit my room on fire when I was just a little kid..." Kimiko said sheepishly. "Maybe around the time I was five or so? That's when my family started noticing things. If I got too upset, BOOM." She made a gesture with her hands. "Stuff just blew up." Then she gave a small laugh. "That's actually how I got involved in Xiaolin. My parents wanted to find a teacher for me. They thought learning the Xiaolin arts would help me to learn how to control my emotions."

Raimundo smirked, "Yet, even after all these years, it still hasn't helped all THAT much."

Kimiko growled and brandished a plate of food, aimed and ready to launch into Raimundo's face, "Well, why did YOU start learning the Xiaolin arts?"

"Oh, I didn't go out and find Xiaolin. It found me." Raimundo replied casually, unfazed by Kimiko's threatening gesture. He set down his bowl. "Some monks just showed up in my town one day, said they were looking for me. That's when they told me that I would be one of the next generation of Xiaolin Dragons." He bore a smug expression as he recalled the events, and then his voice took on a mysterious air as he recounted the tale. "A few weeks before they came, something WEIRD happened. My town is next to a volcano, and usually it wasn't a problem, but one year, when I was about eight I guess, there was this mini eruption. The whole forest next to my house caught fire. We all had to evacuate. Man, I was devastated. And angry too. I thought my house and all of our stuff would be gone when we came back." He paused and then motioned with his chopsticks in a mysterious gesture. "But, when we returned, we found that the house was completely fine. A grove of trees sprang up between it and the mountain, so old and thick that it was able to somehow withstand the forest fire. Those trees acted as a barrier, stopping the fire from ever reaching our house." 

The monks looked at Raimundo with expressions of wonder. He grinned, "Our priest said that it was a miracle. And when the monks showed up, they told me that it was because of me. I wanted to protect our property, so, I guess I did."

The others exchanged words of amazement.

"What about you, Clay?" Kimiko asked.

Clay smiled. "Well, my story isn't as fancy or dramatic as y'all's. See, my daddy took me on my first cattle drive when I was six years old. We camped out on a little mesa, where we could watch the herd, and we watched the sun rise over the land the next morning." A look of nostalgia came over Clay's face. "I had never seen nothing so beautiful in my life. You could see the whole desert, stretched out all around, just drinking up that sunlight. It was in that moment, that I felt the earth. It was alive. It felt almost like it was sitting and watching the sun rise the same as us." Clay smiled, recalling the memory fondly. "Well then, after that, I started to just get an uncanny feel for the land, I reckon. And then, like Raimundo, some monks showed up at our ranch. They offered to train me in the ways of the Xiaolin arts." Clay finished with a contented smile. Then it was Omi's turn to speak.

"Well, I did not need to be sought out by monks or to seek monks out myself. I was raised in the temple." he said.

"Yeah, but how did you find out that you were meant to be one of the Dragons?" Raimundo asked.

"Oh. I always knew." Omi said proudly. "From the moment I arrived at the temple, the monks knew I was special."

The others waited for Omi to add more, but then realized that was the end of his story. Jack cast her gaze downward again.

"You mean nothing like that ever happened to you?" Kimiko asked, seeing Jack's troubled reaction. "You really had no idea?"

Jack continued looking down and shook her head. "No... Nothing like that ever happened to me. Nothing weird or magical, and I never had any epiphanies or anything... And... No monks ever showed up to talk to me..."

Jack silently wondered why no one had come for her, as they did with the others. She desperately searched her memory for anything that remotely resembled the experiences of the other children. There was nothing. Why had no one come for her?

The monks exchanged helpless expressions and finally resumed their repast in silence. After some time, Kimiko spoke up.

"Wait. I've got an idea," she said. The others paused and looked at her. "Most of us connected with our element after something major happened. Like, a major emotional event." The others looked at one another. "Maybe something like that just hasn't happened to you yet." Kimiko offered.

Jack thought about it, however her gut was unconvinced. Her entire life had been an emotional rollercoaster. And, besides, even if that was what was needed, the world would probably be mostly obliterated by the time anything came around. As the thoughts trickled through her mind, she felt even worse than before. After another small bite of porridge, Jack decided she really wasn't hungry after all. She got up from the table, leaving her food to be collected by the serving staff nearby. 

As the monks watched her exit the hall, they gave a collective sigh. They were beginning to feel discouraged too. They all wondered silently: 

What was keeping Jack Spicer from finding his element?

* * *

Jack stood on the twilit terrace outside of their lodgings. She inhaled deeply, bringing her hands together before her, as Omi had shown her countless times. She breathed. Again. And a flicker of anxiety pinged in her stomach. She furrowed her brows in further concentration, pushing the feeling away, taking another deep breath, hoping to drown out the quietly gnawing sense that something was very wrong. She inhaled and exhaled in rhythm, as Clay and Omi had taught her. She thought of her element, and she searched inside for any sensation that resonated.

Quiet all thought. Omi's words repeated in her skull over and over, and she began to move in the series of steps he had shown her, breathing slowly in and out, searching within as she moved. Quiet mind. Breathe. The gnawing feeling continued. She centered herself. Again. Be the element. Strong. She felt the earth beneath her feet. Flexible. She allowed herself to flow from one movement to another. Conductivity... The word filtered into her mind as she considered the element, breathing and moving with purpose. Yet, despite all her efforts, the feeling in her stomach would not abate. The more she tried, the more she sensed a terrible weight inside. She became nauseous, and halted abruptly as all the doubts of her shadow self came like a flood into her mind. 

She gasped and walked sadly to the terrace rail. She leant upon it, letting a small sob escape her lips. 

This would be like everything else she ever tried. 'Stupid!' She berated herself for holding hope that perhaps this time could be different. Nothing came easily for Jack Spicer. She looked up, staring into the darkness, wringing the stone rail between her palms and then wiping her nose, which was still tender from the previous day, with the back of her hand. She froze as an alarmed sensation overtook her, informing her that she was no longer alone upon the terrace. She spun about.

Lyn. 

Lyn stood quietly in the center of the courtyard, a few yards from Jack, her mask held gingerly within her hands. She offered a tentative expression.

Jack's feelings of doubt and frustration immediately darkened with anger. She turned back toward the terrace rail and made a hard effort to appear completely uninterested in the woman. No words were spoken, and Lyn stood humbly by while Jack pretended not to see her. 

In Jack's mind, she silently wished that Lyn had just remained hidden for the rest of her life.

The grey warrior took a quiet step forward, coming to stand beside Jack. For several long moments the two gazed down upon the glittering gloam of the cavern in painful silence. Jack considered leaving, turning her back upon the woman without a word, but something kept her there. The two stood, not looking at one another.

"The shirt. I am glad that it seems to suit you..." Lyn finally said. 

Jack realized that she was referring to the blouse Jack was currently wearing--the one given to her upon her arrival at the Temple. Jack's old clothes had since been washed, but she had continued to wear the silken blouse. In fact, she had become rather fond of it. She realized with some annoyance that it WAS Lyn after all who must have selected it for her. Jack stared downward, scrutinizing the chewed nubs of her fingernails and pretending not to care.

Lyn continued awkwardly, keeping her gaze firmly forward, "I was afraid it might not fit well... But you seem to have made it work."

"Yeah well the pants didn't fit," Jack supplied, trying to find anything disagreeable to say to the woman.

Lyn smiled softly, "Ah. I had feared they were too long. My apologies. The clothes were mine you see. Just an old outfit I still had lying around, for when I needed to go out about the world..." She surveyed the lights of the city below, considering them in comparison to the city lights she had seen elsewhere, across the globe, during her travels.

Jack suddenly disliked the clothes and considered throwing them away later, but she immediately felt guilty for thinking such a thing, though she dared not admit the reason for her attachment. She ran her finger over the hem of her sleeve.

Lyn bowed her head sheepishly and she attempted to allow a tone of kindliness into her voice. The effect was stiff, and it was painfully clear that she was unfamiliar with speaking to people, or with expressing emotion. "I thought you would not fancy the robes we typically have here. I am afraid the Order keeps things rather plain. And so I thought some of my old clothes would... I thought these specific clothes would make you feel more... comfortable... with yourself."

Jack turned an involuntary gaze upon the woman. Lyn remained looking away, but Jack noticed the hint of meaning in her voice. She looked down at her hands again, away from the grey warrior, and another long silence passed. At last, Lyn turned her head toward Jack.

"I wanted to intervene. I wanted to make myself known to you." She said with a solemn expression before casting her gaze aside once more. "It is forbidden by our Order to reveal yourself to any outsider. That is why..." She paused, and the next words came slowly and with difficulty, "That is why I now find myself in a similar situation to your own."

Jack wondered what she could possibly mean.

"Even if the planet is somehow spared this great calamity, and our Order survives, I shall be tried and severely punished for my actions. It is likely that I shall be put to death." Lyn said.

Jack pressed her lips together as she considered the statement. Lyn's face betrayed no emotion about the idea; it carried the same somber, grey quality that it always bore.

"Then why take the risk?" Jack questioned, carefully keeping a condescending tone. She was still angry with the woman, after all. "Are the Dragons REALLY the only ones who can stop Apophis? I mean, you guys have magic too don't you? Was there really no other way?"

"We do possess magic of our own... However it was Seen that only the Chosen Ones would be able to stop this force." Lyn replied.

"Seen? Like, by your creepy head honchos?" Jack scoffed, "And you believe everything they tell you without question?" She gave a bitter laugh and her voice took on a dark tone, "There's always another way. If you all knew about this ahead of time, you could have figured out how to solve this yourselves, instead of running to someone else to solve your problems for you while you hid in your cave."

Lyn smiled solemnly and looked down at the young genius. "Perhaps you are right. However the Voice declared that nothing could be done to stave off Apophis' destruction without the intervention of the Chosen Ones. They saw that only when the five Chosen Ones had found their power would the planet be spared Apophis' wrath."

Jack gazed down at the railing once more. 'Found their power.' The words stung in her mind, and she closed her eyes.

Lyn continued, "It was my task to ensure you found your power... It was thought that by exposing you to magic, ensuring that you found Wuya's puzzle box, you would eventually cross paths with the others, leading to your unification with them. However..." Her face carried a look of shame, "It would seem that I failed in my task..." She continued with a sigh in her voice, "With the Chosen Ones scattered, and Apophis' arrival imminent, my Order resigned the planet to destruction. I sought you out only as a last resort, in the hope that you would be able to save us if only you were brought together." And then she gave a small, disappointed laugh. "It was, however, unfair for me to put you in such a dangerous position. I suppose I HAVE truly failed as your guardian."

"Well..." Jack sighed, leaning her forearms on the railing again, "I guess, if this REALLY was the only thing you could come up with, I suppose I would have done the same in your position." She rested her hand on her palm thoughtfully, and frowned. "Doesn't matter though. It looks like I'm as much a dud as you are. All the others figured this stuff out at as little kids. But I can't even meditate properly. Much less do anything magical."

Lyn gave Jack a surprised expression, not expecting such an understanding statement. Then she too became pensive. 

Jack continued, nervously rocking back and forth on her heels while gripping the rail, letting it support her weight. "I thought... Well, when you told me that I'm a 'Chosen One', I thought that maybe this time could be different..." she mused. Then she quickly added, "Well, actually my first impression was that you had been spending too much time underground, and that maybe you were crazy from sun-deprivation or something." 

Lyn could not help but smile at Jack's candid words. 

Jack continued on with a sigh, "But... With the monks, well, I thought that maybe I might actually have a destiny worth speaking about." She gave a sudden, sharp, sardonic laugh, ignoring the sympathetic expression Lyn cast in her direction. Jack shook her head and returned her chin to her palms. "Even with all the 'stars in my favor' or whatever, I still seem to fuck up..."

Another silence came and went. The gentle shush of the cavern's many waterfalls was the only whisper in the dim light. It was even darker than usual within the Hidden Temple, for the moon, though frozen in its orbit, was obscured by clouds beyond the sanctum's stony roof. The little light that did penetrate the nocturnal veil trickled weakly downward through small cavities in the rock, barely illuminating the grey mists that crept through the city below. The sparse lights of the sleeping city glowed soft and blue within the haze, like fireflies suspended in a dimly shimmering sea.

After a long span of staring into that sea, without an utterance between the two souls, Lyn stood from the rail. 

"No." 

She said the word quietly as she turned to face Jack. "I know that you do not know me. I know that you do not trust me... But I trust YOU." Lyn placed a thin hand over her chest, indicating her sincerity as a note of earnest crept into her voice and across her countenance. She held Jack's doubtful gaze with her own as she spoke. "Jack, I have watched you grow up, even if only from afar. I have seen you make marvels out of nothing, and come out alive even when there was no one there to lift you up. You are a brilliant mind, and you have a strength of heart that should be envied by all. I admit..." Lyn lowered her gaze briefly, offering a sheepish smile; the effect of the expression was startling upon the stolid warrior's face. "I did not accept my charge to watch over you with good cheer. I thought it a waste of my talents to spend my years watching over a child. But as I came to know you, your habits, your dreams and desires... Your ingenuity, and the spark of your drive and imagination... I realized that you were a source of inspiration in my life. By watching you, I came to know what the true nature of courage is. And of strength."

Jack felt her condescension melting, gazing wordless and unsure into Lyn's uncharacteristically earnest expression. Her breath caught in her throat and her fingers curled tightly around the terrace rail, recoiling at her guardian's candid kindness. She struggled to accept the words being given to her, and she looked up at the woman with disbelief. Yet the look in Lyn's silvery eyes told Jack that she was speaking from her heart. The smile upon the warrior's lips spread and for the first time Jack noticed how attractive Lyn was, in her own way. Lyn's voice quieted, though it retained the same force of fervor, and honesty, behind its words. "Jack Spicer, never have I seen a person more worthy of the mantle of Dragon of Metal than you." 

There was another long silence, and, seeing Jack's dubious mien, Lyn leaned forward to align her face with Jack's. "Strength," she said, "is not revealed by how many times a person wins, but by their Will to keep trying. And I have never seen a person try harder than you do every day."

Jack stared at Lyn, and then a spark of inspiration came into the grey warrior's eyes. 

"I may have an idea."


	9. Chapter 9

The children were taken early the next morning to one of the Temple's myriad terrace gardens where they sat arranged in a semi-circle before Lyn. A small stream ran alongside them in a series of waterfalls, lending an accompaniment of whispers to Lyn's words.

"The Warriors of Tao possess a very special philosophy of magic." Lyn explained, lighting a censor beside them. Spidery coils of smoke reached out from the shallow dish, tracing their fingers along the water's surface and touching each of the spectators. Lyn filled a small bowl with water from the stream and set it by her side. "The cosmos is driven by a whole spectrum of forces, beyond those you call 'Good' and 'Evil'. Every force, and every entity, plays a unique 'note'. Only by quieting the sounds of oneself can one hear the Sound of All Things. Only by becoming Nothing, can one become Everything."

She smiled at the confused expressions on the faces of the children. "Only by destroying one's consciousness can one hope to achieve connection with all things. Jack, come forward." She motioned for Jack to sit across from her.

Jack did so, sitting with the stream along her right and along Lyn's left, and Lyn took Jack's hands in her own.

"I ask your silence as I work." Lyn said to the others, and then she quietly asked Jack to close her eyes. "Now, watch, and bear witness to one of the oldest magics known to man." 

Lyn closed her eyes as well.

The group sat in silence, Lyn and Jack with their hands connected. The stream whispered past them, crystal clear and unhurried. Time passed slowly. Slowly as the moss and flora grew around them; slowly as the air that gently moved through the cavernous space. Cool and full of thought. Jack felt her breath slowing to match the pace of the gardens. If she was still enough, she could even feel the pulse in Lyn's fingers. 

After a length of time, Lyn opened her eyes and offered a smile.

"Good," Lyn rotated and gestured to the ground between herself and the other youngsters. "Jack, now I ask you to lay down, with your back upon the sand." 

Jack gave her a questioning look but did as she was told.

Lyn placed a small cloth beneath Jack's head and took one more deep breath of incense smoke. "I am going to connect with your chi now," Lyn said. "I shall first start at the base of your feet, and from there I shall move upward."

"Is this going to help me connect to my metal element...?" Jack asked dubiously.

"Yes. Within every person is a stream of energy. By connecting myself to that energy, I will be able to aid you in navigating its flow. I shall be your guide in finding your power." Lyn nodded as she replied. "Now, close your eyes and relax. You may see strange things in your mind's eye, or feel odd sensations, but know that nothing can harm you. You are safe here."

Jack closed her eyes nervously as Lyn's fingers hovered along the lines of her body, beginning by her feet and slowly moving upward. The ground was cool, and Jack could just barely feel the warmth of Lyn's palms and fingertips along her skin. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then slowly, nearly imperceptibly, there came a change in the air, like a soft vibration. It seemed almost a sound, humming upon the edge of consciousness--though, Jack considered, it could have just been the stream beside them.

Jack waited. 

Then she felt a small tingling at the soles of her feet. The sensation moved upward as Lyn's hands did the same, and as it neared Jack's groin a sense of unease began to grow within the pit of her stomach. A wave of panic swept through her. The tingling penetrated the base of Jack's spine and the feeling of fear sharpened, drawing from her lips a tiny whimper.

"Calm, Jack." Lyn said softly.

Jack shut her eyes tighter, her breath quickening as she strained against the urge to curl into a ball and hide. A cloud of crimson, so faint at first, began to grow in the landscape of her mind. Within it flickered the ephemeral images of memories long passed. Indistinct faces and whispers of suspicion. Were they speaking about her? She felt the urge to flee grow stronger as the scarlet hue intensified, and a mounting scream gnawed at the base of her lungs. She bit her lip to keep silent, and another whimper squeezed its way out of her throat like a refugee slipping through the net of her of antagonizer: a tyrant, named Fear. Jack shuddered and then a calming sensation swept through her. She was startled by its presence. It picked her up and held her as a mother might cradle her child. Jack resisted the feeling for a moment, but felt the carapace of her reticence thinning. A voice whispered in her head that she was safe. She swallowed and let the comforting sensation wash over her. The fear melted away and her breath began to regulate. She heard the whisper of Lyn's voice upon the edge of her consciousness.

The first gate was cleared, it said.

Lyn's hands began to move again, traveling up Jack's form to her naval, and the vibration of the silent sound permeating the air seemed to change as Lyn's attention shifted to the next 'gate' in Jack's energetic flow. 

Jack was suddenly struck with a sense of directionless guilt as the guiding force of Lyn's attention took them both through the next threshold. Regrets and the pang of shame emanated from a golden-orange cloud that began to supersede the red one. Jack reflected sadly upon the notions within, but then she felt a pressure on her shoulder as though from a sympathetic hand. Her mind was urged to look beyond the sorrows in the orange cloud, and she turned her attention away, pulled forward by the guiding force of Lyn's presence. As both turned their attention away from the cloud, the images within began to fade as if blown away in a cool breeze. Jack was left with a lighter feeling, as Lyn's hands began to move again, and the vibration in the air rose in frequency.

As Lyn's attention traced upward, and her fingers neared the center of Jack's abdomen, Jack became aware of a burning mounting within her stomach. The feeling intensified as Lyn approached her core, and as the warrior's hands came to rest above Jack's core she was stricken with such pain that she let forth a scream.

A flurry of images ripped through the mist in Jack's mind, burning into her awareness like sulfuric acid. She was no longer in the garden of the Hidden Temple. Darkness drew in around her like smoke, and she was standing, cold and naked, in a dark room. Only shadows shifted beyond her veiled perception, yet she felt a sickening sureness that she was being watched. Not only watched, but scrutinized--like an insect beneath a dark and eyeless microscope. She clamped her arms around her body. Her hands were so cold, and her skin so bare. A shiver came to her along with the sound of voices, chanting in the darkness. The sound was malevolent, and she begged whoever held her there to please let her go.

Her pleas were met with such an overbearing sense of severity that her knees buckled. The burning inside of her spread until every fiber of her being felt the pain of its bite, yet somehow she felt colder than ever. The sensation was like the burning of ice, deadening the vitality of every piece of her spirit that it touched. She felt as though her blood might freeze within her veins, and the terror that flooded the space of her thoughts demanded another scream. But the same affliction that froze her mind and spirit also froze her lungs. They balked at the demand for air, and the scream that tried to escape came only as the sound of a sickly choking.

A sudden pressure came upon her stomach, as if someone were trying to tamp down the icy fire within her gut. She begged to whoever it was, pleading in her mind for them to save her from the pain, but managing only to cough out a repetitive series of whimpering cries for help. A voice, deep and dark like the ocean, came to her, bidding her to open her eyes. She cried that she was afraid, yet the voice urged her again to heed its instruction. She fought against the terror and the burning, and felt the pressure come upon her stomach like the crashing of waves every time the voice bade her listen. Finally, she allowed her eyes to open.

At first she was unsure whether she had truly opened her eyes or not. Little more than the shadow shapes greeted her vision, but then she caught the glint of a crystal's light gradually forming upon the edge of her sight. She heard water, bubbling and chittering softly like that in a stream. And then came the ocean-like voice once more. It was not as deep as it once was, but it was familiar, and comforting. With each blink the darkness gave way to the shadow of shapes and at last Jack saw Lyn looking down at her with an intense expression.

A sudden shudder rippled through Jack's body, and then she turned onto her side and vomited.

***

Jack awoke in bed. Extra blankets had been laid atop her small frame, which still shivered despite their warmth, and a warm knitted blanket had been laid beneath her, adding an additional layer between her and the woven mat that typically adorned the bed. 

An attempt to sit brought an intense pain to Jack's abdomen. She gasped and laid back down, and the pain lessened. Her heart raced as did the questions in her mind. She tried to remember how she had gotten there. Vague memories of the crystal garden and Lyn's voice wandered within her mind's periphery before flying away and leaving her with blank sense of unease. She lay there in silence until the beating of her heart slowed and the pain in her stomach dulled. 

After a time she turned onto her side, tucking her hands beneath her head and staring at nothing in particular. Jack felt the itch of some important memory upon the edge of her consciousness, yet every attempt to discern its meaning brought only more of the same deafening silence that permeated her mind whenever she tried to get at the notion. Nothing. Whatever it was, it was lost to her. Like a faded fever dream. Jack often experienced this feeling--usually in the dead of night when her mind kept her body awake--like the sound of a scratching noise in the dark. Directionless, and indistinct. It unsettled her, and drove her to tossing and turning during many a night. 

She rolled over to face the wall.

A while later, a shift in the air informed Jack that she was no longer alone. One of the temple staff, bearing a pitcher and cloth, entered the room. They appeared to be some kind of servant. Jack had determined that the style of the temple denizens' masks and garb indicated the role they played in the underground hive. This person bore a set of simple black garments with a plain white mask bearing a meager amount of markings. Without a word, they filled the room's basin with fresh water and wet the cloth. Jack tensed as they raised the cloth toward her face, and they hesitated. The servant indicated with a subtle motion that there was no need for alarm, and pressed the cloth to Jack's forehead. The water was cool, drawn from the same wells of underground spring water that filled the baths and tumbled downward in the ubiquitous waterfalls that graced the Temple's cavernous landscape. After dabbing Jack's forehead a few times, the servant folded the cloth neatly upon the basin's edge and withdrew from the room, taking the pitcher with them.

Jack watched them go and then leaned back upon her pillow with a sigh. 

The temple denizens were a strange lot to be certain. Hardly any of them spoke, and when they did they kept their voices low, as one might do in the presence of someone asleep--or as one might do in the presence of a church or graveyard. Jack pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling. She wondered what it must be like to grow up in such a place. She did not recall seeing any children and she began to wonder if any even existed within those strange halls. Perhaps all of these people had once dwelt outside the cavern, she mused. Yet the cautious way in which most denizens approached outsiders told her that they were unfamiliar with seeing anyone from outside the temple. 

She wondered if Lyn had also grown up here.

A twinge came to her heart as she thought of her mysterious, grey guardian. She faced the wall again and cuddled further beneath the covers in a futile attempt to hide from her complicated thoughts. Thankfully, the entrance of another person provided a welcome distraction. 

It was Omi. Unbeknownst to Jack, he had been waiting patiently upon the terrace. The servant who came in earlier had informed him on their way back that Jack had awakened. With him came Kimiko, who had been keeping Omi company as he waited.

Kimiko lingered in the doorway while Omi gingerly approached the bed, as one might approach a sick or timid animal.

Jack smiled upon seeing Omi, her friend. His company was more than welcome in the wake of the fatigue and confusion she had felt over the past few days. Omi, seeing her smile, appeared relieved and he quickened his pace to her bedside.

Jack broke the silence, offering a befuddled expression. "What happened? How did I get here, back in bed?"

"Do you not remember?" Omi gave her a concerned look. "When Lyn was connecting with your chi, you became most distressed. You..." Omi seemed shaken by the memory. His voice quieted. "You began to scream, as if in great pain..."

Jack looked from Omi to Kimiko, who did not contradict Omi's account.

"Do you remember anything of what happened in the gardens?" Omi asked.

"I remember Lyn asking me to lay down on the ground. She was doing some kind of meditation, or energy healing thing." Jack frowned, attempting to drudge up the memory, with only partial success. "I felt a pain in my stomach." She felt a strong sense that there had been more however she could no longer remember it. Both Kimiko and Omi exchanged a look of concern.

Nevertheless, the two monks stayed with Jack in her room, talking with her and with one another until Lyn came to visit some time later. She bid them listen to her words for, as she said, time was growing short and there was much to do.

"I have spoken to the Voice, and the Council of Elders. There is to be a ceremony, tonight. A ritual. You must prepare yourself." Lyn informed.

Jack and the others detected the troubled look in her eye as she spoke.

"Is something wrong?" Omi asked.

Lyn drew her lips tight. When she answered, her voice was quieter, and it carried a weight within it. "The reason for Jack's inability to connect to the Wu Xing element of Metal goes deeper than we had anticipated." She looked at Jack. "You bear the mark of great and sinister magics upon you. And it is beyond my capability to heal you of your affliction."

Jack became alarmed at her words. 

Lyn bowed her head to Jack and sighed. "Had I known the nature of your ailment, I would not have attempted an energy healing as I did. I am sorry. I did not see."

"I don't understand," Jack replied flatly.

Lyn placed her hand upon the door frame, running her fingers over the carved patterns adorning its edges as she explained. "Energy flows much like a river, through every living thing. And just like a river, it can be dammed and diverted. With the proper knowledge and skill." Lyn shook her head, "However, redirecting the flow of a person's chi can have disastrous effects if done irresponsibly, or… if done with the intention to harm…" Lyn's voice dropped for a moment before continuing with a clearing a the throat. "Like the dammed river, blocked chi can overflow, and flood the spirit in ways dangerous to the individual, distorting their spirit. And a sudden removal of such a block can also be dangerous..." 

Lyn cast her gaze downward. "When I attempted to quicken the flow of your energy, I was met with a block at the seat of your power, within your solar plexus chakra. A powerful spell has been placed upon your spirit, and this spell is what has kept you from connecting to your element." She paused and cast a thoughtful expression toward the window. "In truth, everything makes much more sense now. Your energy had been hidden from the eyes of the Xiaolin Council as a small child, and this was by no accident. Someone, with great skill and powers of deception, hid you from their view with this spell. In fact, the part of your spirit bound to your power has been hidden from all view--even mine." She admitted the last bit with the look of someone nursing a wounded pride. "Every time you attempted to connect to the power within you, this spell has diverted your energy."

Jack's throat had gone dry, and her face had grown paler than normal.

"Why would anybody do something like that?" Kimiko whispered, also clearly disturbed.

"I cannot say." Lyn replied carefully. "Perhaps to keep the Chosen Ones from arising to their full power." And then her voice fell into a low tone. "Any reason though would be born from a place of malice."

Jack looked down at her hands, which rested upon the covers. Since she had awoken only a few hours earlier they had been trembling, yet now for the first time they were still. Strangely, a light feeling came over Jack's heart. If this was the case, if what Lyn said was true, then there was a reason for her failure. It was not her fault... As serious as the revelation should have been, Jack was actually happy. She closed her eyes, which had begun to water, and gripped the blankets, biting her lip as a surge of relief washed over her spirit like a cleansing tide.

It was not her fault… Her mind repeated the thought like a breathless whisper, and a small smile came to her face, too slight to be perceived in the dim light of the simple apartment.

A few more moments passed before Jack took a deep breath at last and asked, "What must be done?"


	10. Chapter 10

Jack was attended that evening in silence and seclusion. Her only company was a group of servants, clad entirely in black, bearing veils over their masked faces. They spoke nary a word, and the only conversation she held that night was with the demons in her own mind.

She considered all that had happened up to that point. The battle in the jungle. The time spent in the dungeons. Lyn's revelation at the Oracle Sands. Their conversation upon the terrace. Lyn's words suggested that all this went further back than Jack knew.

Jack tried to recall anything in her life that could have pointed to the things happening now. This seal upon her soul. Her supposed destiny as a 'Chosen One'. Small things drifted up from the dregs of her memory, like bodies rising from the eerie depths, separating themselves from the rest of her life in their significance. Coincidences that led her to become the person she was today. Her life and her history. Her interests. Her aspirations. Her insecurities… Even the people she had come to know in her life became a question in her mind. She began to wonder how much of it had been contrived by someone else.

She was to meet the Council of Elders that night, at which point they would remove the seal. Until then, she was to be kept in isolation, save for the service of the strange and silent attendants. They took her to a grotto pool deep within Temple where she was washed with exotic oils and herbs, and clad in a set of plain flaxen garments, neither white, grey, nor black. A waterfall, silver in the ethereal darkness, illuminated by an alien biome of luminescent fungi, rained down upon her from above in a fine mist. Stark shadows and soft glowing lights turned her skin white as death within the gloam, and the cold water and the servants' ministrations offered her little comfort amid the desolate state of her mind.

A sick feeling came to Jack's spirit. She slowly realized how much of her life had not been her own. For seventeen years she was pulled along by a set of strings she had not even known existed. The more she thought of it, the more she desired to scream--and, steadily, a rage began to rise inside of her. 

Every person she had known in her life had imposed their will upon her. Even Lyn admitted to directing her life from the shadows. As the darkly clad attendants ran their fingers over her form, and the silver waterfall rained down like a chilled mist, Jack's thoughts darkened. With each morose realization she came to resent every single relationship in her life. Every person. Even these odd, mute attendants. She hated them all. A desire rose within her to bury them all somewhere deep underground; deeper than this wretched cavern. Beyond the ice and stone, into the molten abyss where they would become nothing. She felt a fool. Embarrassed and ashamed. And, ultimately, with her shame came a sense of deep regret for all the time she had lost. 

What would she have been like if things had been different? Who would she be? How much of her was truly of her own making, and how much was the creation of others? 

She recalled one of her favorite stories--Frankenstein. She thought of his monster, created with a patchwork of parts from bodies not its own. Entirely a creation of others. She wondered how much of the monster had truly been itself, and with a sick sense of horror she realized that she now related more to Frankenstein's monster than to the mad scientist she had always adored and sought to emulate.

There she went again--another emulation. One more imitation in a long line of foolhardy attempts to find her own power within the stolen lives of others. She realized that throughout her entire life she had been stealing the existences of others in a desperate search for something to fill the void where Jack Spicer was supposed to be. 

And then a truly terrifying thought came to her: if this seal was removed, if her power was restored, would she be a different person? The idea scared her more than any other revelation had up to that point. She became filled with an urge to scream at the attendants to stop their ministrations and let her go. Jack realized that she had never known her true self, and the idea of finally meeting that person terrified her more than anything ever had.

Following the bath, she was taken to a humble chamber, circular in shape, with smooth, plain walls and a simply patterned floor. Cushions lined the room, and a still, crystalline pool sat recessed within the floor on one side of the chamber. The chamber bore no windows. The only light within came from another one of those sunlight crystals, set high into the ceiling above. There she was to wait until she was retrieved. One of the black-veiled attendants was placed outside the door to assist her should she need.

Jack stared around the room. This place was ridiculous. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be in her lab, poring over some new design at her workbench. She missed the smell of engine grease and heated metal. She missed heat in general, actually. This entire place seemed cold, even more so now. As she sat in the circular room, she once again thought of the spell, the seal upon her soul. Who would have done such a thing? 

With a note of grief she eventually laid down on a pile of pillows.

Jack must have dozed at some point, because the next thing she perceived was the gentle nudge of someone tapping her shoulder. She opened her eyes to find one of the black-garbed attendants bidding her to stand. She complied and let them lead her into the halls beyond the waiting chamber once more.

This portion of the temple felt different than the rest. It was quieter, and its shadows more extreme. Crystals hanging in lamps from the vaulted ceilings cast hard shadows and illuminated great designs of esoteric geometry that covered the walls and floor. The designs were etched in fine lines like the grooves on a record. The air felt as though it were vibrating, and any sound made faded quickly into a nearly palpable silence that covered the entire space like a shroud. The sounds of the waterfalls that traveled throughout the cavern and halls outside of this inner sanctum were muffled, yet the sound of indistinct whispers still, somehow, permeated the inner temple.

The place felt eerie to Jack, as her spirit still struggled beneath the dizzying thoughts surrounding her patchwork reality. Security, and her sense of self, felt so far from those dark and dismal halls. She noticed with a sense of disquiet the distinct lack of sound that the attendant leading her made. All of the temple's denizens possessed an uncanny ability for quiet movement, but these ones seemed to absorb sound wherever they went. This only increased the feeling of alienation she felt. As she was led deeper and deeper into the temple bowels, Jack wished to call the whole thing off, go back to her room, and remain magically sealed as she was. She wanted to go home.

The servant led Jack to a set of tall and imposing doors. They bore no handle yet they opened, slowly and soundlessly, at the servant's approach. Beyond the doors was an area even darker than the halls, and Jack's body protested at the idea of walking into such a place. She froze at the threshold while the attendant carried on into the darkness, melting away from her sight.

Jack stood in the doorway. She wondered if they would notice if she simply crept away. She had no idea what waited in the darkness beyond. 

The sound of her own heartbeat and shallow breathing seemed the only tangible things in that moment. She looked into the dark and then behind her at the yawning halls of light and shadow through which she had just come. Jack stood suspended between light and shadow. The light of the crystal lamps behind her and the darkness of the great threshold before her. She was surprised when her foot took a tentative step forward, of its own volition, as though compelled by some inner force she had not yet perceived prior to coming to the Hidden Temple. Something inside of her, be it will or curiosity, pushed her onward. 

She stepped into the dark, and the doors closed behind her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been having trouble with my eyes so a special thanks to @stick_figure_poet for, ya know, having functional eyes and helping get this posted. This would not have gotten edited and posted without him. Thanks, bro!

A heavy black curtain was drawn back, and Jack's eyes stung in the bright light that greeted her beyond the veil.

A domed chamber stood open before her, vaulted in a strange manner of construction, like an opera house with many tiers and curves. More of the same etched designs which adorned the halls outside were scrawled across the sloping walls. They ran to the precipice of the chamber where a chandelier of sunlight crystals hung from its crown, encased in a cage of intricate metalwork. The patterns of the cage cast stark shadows, breaking up light and dark in a disorienting display of opposites. Jack's scarlet eyes blinked rapidly, unable to focus properly amidst the surreal interplay of light and shadow.

Beneath the chandelier was a stone table, around which stood eight figures veiled in grey. To the side stood Lyn, who bowed a solemn greeting to Jack.

Jack hung back in the vestibule. Her heart trembled, and, with shame, she noticed that her body trembled as well. The driving force that had compelled her steps before appeared to have dried up once she laid eyes upon the austere ring of individuals. The attendant, sensing her hesitation, turned and beckoned wordlessly for her to come forward. Jack regarded their outstretched hand and shook her head. Her feet took an involuntary step backward.

The servant beckoned again.

The breath within Jack's breast became so shallow that she felt as though she might faint. She turned her head back toward the way she had come, but a gentle pressure fell upon her shoulder, stilling her steps. Jack turned to find Lyn, with her head bowed, one hand upon her own breast in a soft and encouraging gesture, and the other upon Jack's shoulder. Jack recognized its feeling as the same feeling that had encouraged her forward during the session in the garden.

Jack swallowed, and stepped from the shadowed doorway into the chandelier's light.

Jack's escort motioned for her to lay upon the table of stone. Jack did so, taking one last hesitant look toward Lyn before lifting herself onto the platform. As soon as she did, the attendant bowed and exited the room, keeping their face to the center of the chamber as they backed out into the vestibule. Lyn cast one last gaze upon her charge and then followed in the same manner. The heavy black curtain was drawn behind her, and any sound that existed in the room before now faded. 

The ring of veiled individuals closed around Jack, who lay trembling and white upon the grey slab like an effigy of death. The Elders lifted their hands, and softly, subtly, they began to sing. 

A surge of claustrophobia came suddenly upon Jack, constricting her throat and leaving her dizzy and feeling sick. She silently hoped that she did not faint--or vomit--during the ritual. She closed her eyes and began to count prime numbers in her head. 

2, 3, 5, 7, 11...

A soft sound came into Jack's mind, like the one she had heard before in the garden as Lyn had placed her hands over her. Jack felt the same tingling sensation as she had before, and it slowly began to travel upward along her body's energetic pathways, however this time the sensation was stronger. It felt as though someone were running a small current of electricity through her, beginning at her feet. Surprisingly, her breathing began to slow, as did her mind. 

Jack slipped into a waking sleep.

She was transported to a place of pure darkness. She felt nothing around her but cold void. Nothing but emptiness hung beneath her feet, yet she felt motionless--she was not falling. She was simply existing. Even as she turned her head around, she could perceive no change. Jack wondered what she was doing there. She tried to remember, but the memory of the time before this void had faded. Nothing but a dream. 

Though Jack could see nothing, she was surprisingly calm. The darkness did not worry her, which might have seemed strange to her if not for her dreamlike state. She decided it would be a good idea to simply float there and allow herself to 'be'.

Slowly, ever so slowly, a sound entered her awareness, like an unassuming traveler. It was not so much that the sound had started up. It was more so that it had always been there and she was just hearing it for the first time. It was so deep she could feel it all the way into the core of her bones, down to the soles of her feet. 

A sensation of pressure built beneath her feet, and then she realized that she was standing on something cold and hard. She tested the surface with her toes, wiggling them a bit. And then she perceived a change in the voiceless tone surrounding her. Another tone joined it, much as the first did, wandering in like a forgotten presence. As though it had always been there. 

At first the combination of tones were discordant, and their dissonance produced an inexplicable feeling of terror within her, yet she was unable to move, unable to scream. Frozen to the spot, like an animal of the night paralyzed by the headlights of an approaching vehicle. She felt the horror surge and bubble and electrify her awareness to the point she feared her head might actually burst. The darkness around her changed, gradually lightening to an abysmal shade of crimson, and whispers came to her memory, although she could not discern their meaning. They were accusing at first, derisive and malevolant. She cowered beneath their malice, but then felt herself lifted up, as if by the hand of a friend.

Her dream-self stood, comforted by an unseen presence. She thought of Lyn, and the feeling of her guardian's hand upon her shoulder. The song of the Elders drifted softly into the crimson dark and the red color grew in brightness and intensity. As it did, the sound became more pleasant, and the fear in her heart began to fade, and as it melted, the trembling in her body abated at last. 

Jack looked warily about as the sound continued to change. 

Another tone came, also dissonant at first. It filled her with the desire to hide within herself. She bowed her head, and her body suddenly felt very heavy, as a muddy orange color seeped in around her. She was surprised, and confused, to find that she was naked, yet her lower half was that of a female. She would have enjoyed the discovery, if it were not for the immense sense of gravity that was descending upon her. It was as if the weight of every sin she had ever committed was now bearing down on her, but her body did not allow her to drop to her knees. 

She stood through it, and the sound began to change, as did the color, becoming sweeter and more vibrant. A feeling of joy overtook the feelings of guilt as she stared into the ever brightening color of wonderful orange. It recalled the beauty of a brilliant sunset, and of a warm fire comforting her against the cold, and she smiled. 

The colors and sounds began to change once more.

Her smile suddenly vanished as an intense pain struck her in the gut. Her body buckled and she thought she had finally dropped to her knees, but she opened her eyes to find herself stll upright, and in a familiar place. Though the familiarity of her surroundings pervaded her senses, Jack could not quite place where she was or how she had come to be there. Jack looked down at her feet and hands and saw her body had changed its appearance once again--the hands before her were those of a child. Then she realized where she was.

She was in her room, at home. It looked different. Her blueprints, band posters, and bits of machinery and bots that typically littered the space were gone. In their place was a small bed, covered in stuffed animals. Her wallpaper had changed too. Cheerful zoo animals frolicked playfully around her walls. A nightlight in the shape of a circus monkey illuminated the room. 

This puzzled her for a split second. She had not seen that monkey in ages--she had taken it apart years ago.

Then she remembered. This was her bedroom. Of course it was. Her mind settled into the thought and locale, and the feelings of puzzlement faded. 

She was awake because she'd had a bad dream. Yes.

Jack heard the sound of her parents moving down the hallway, having returned from one of their outings. A sense of relief washed over her and she smiled. She considered going out to greet them but feared she might get in trouble for being up so late. The sound of their footsteps approached and she quickly leapt into bed, as soundlessly as possible, turning her face from the door and striving to appear as though she had been asleep this whole time.

Her parents entered her bedroom and she heard them whisper to one another.

"He looks so peaceful..." her mother said quietly.

"You know this is for the best..." said her father. A long pause weighted the silence before he spoke again. "I'll get him."

Jack's father sat on her mattress and scooped her into his arms, gently so as not to wake her. He took her through the house, and out to one of the cars, which was already running and waiting. 

Jack thought to herself that it was strange that she was being brought outside while still in her pajamas. She was confused but decided to continue her charade of being asleep. Her father fastened her into her car-seat and climbed into the car's front as quietly as he could.

As the car began to move, Jack dared peek one eye open. She saw the silhouette of her father behind the wheel, illuminated by the headlights. Her mother was in the passenger seat. It was dark and quiet outside. No one spoke during the car ride, and eventually her curiosity and feigned slumber fell away to actual sleep.

She awoke to the sound of her mother's voice.

"Jack, darling," she said softly, nudging her child awake. 

Jack opened her eyes. 

"Don't be frightened, my dear. We've brought you to a party." her mother told her.

Jack yawned and blinked the sleep from her eyes. They were somewhere very strange, some place she had never seen before. The sky seemed brighter than normal. She looked up as her father pulled her from the car. There were stars, but she had never seen so many and she had never seen them so bright.

"Where is this place?" She asked sleepily.

"A very special friend's house." Her mother replied. "A very important friend."

Jack looked around. The house before them was massive, and felt ancient. They were in some kind of complex, like the ones her grandparents on her mother's side lived in--a big estate where lots of people all lived, all related to one another. Surrounding this place, though, was nothing but darkness. There was no city to be seen, yet it was still very loud outside. The sounds of night animals could be heard all around.

"Where is the town?" She asked.

"There are no other buildings here. Not for miles." Her father replied.

Jack wondered to herself where the people who lived there went to the store if there was no town.

Inside the house the noise changed from that of animals to those of humans. The sound of adults' voices could be heard in another room, somewhere in the house, and Jack could see that lights were on in one of the nearby rooms, though the foyer remained steeped in shadow. A servant came to greet them, taking their coats. Her parents exchanged words with him, though Jack was too distracted to hear what was said. 

She looked around at the new locale with interest. It smelled just like her grandparents' house too--incense, heavy and pungent. The walls were painted with rich colors and adorned in exotic finements. Mirrors and wall-hangings, masks and unused candle sconces. She could tell that the place was very big, and she wondered if she would be allowed to explore it as she was sometimes permitted to do at other parties. Jack noticed with a rising sense of curiosity that the sounds she heard in the other room did not sound like the ones she typically heard at the parties she knew. There was no laughter. No clinking of plates or glasses. She wondered what kind of people could be in that room, people who did not laugh at a party, and she was eager to find out. 

She patiently waited in her father's arms but her family remained in the foyer.

"Mommy, can I go see the house?" Jack finally asked, squirming in her father's grip. Her parents shushed her, and her mom ran her hand through Jack's hair. Their expressions were serious and Jack's curiosity about the nature of this party only increased.

After a lengthy period of waiting, a pair of women came to greet them. They wore the traditional garb of Chinese women, dressed in fine silk dresses with high collars, one woman's of blue and the other's red. They smiled at Jack but said nothing to her. Her parents forced smiles and handed Jack to one of the women.

Up until that point, Jack had been content to rest in her father's arms, looking at all the wall hangings, and the very interesting pattern that decorated the floor. It was some kind of mythological creature with feathers, fur, and scales, and the look of it entertained her.

But now a wave of panic gripped her tiny heart as she was delivered into the strange woman's arms. She struggled in the woman's grip, stretching her arms toward her parents, and began to scream. The woman tried to bounce her in her arms, shushing her, but Jack continued to reach for her mother and father.

"Don't struggle, darling," Jack's mother said to her. 

Jack watched her parents, with rising horror, as she was taken away, still screaming. Her mother and father stood in the foyer, holding hands, as they watched her go.

She was taken to another building across the compound with a small bath inside. There, the women undressed her with brusque and impatient movements, and they deposited her uncerimoniously into the water and began to scrub her clean. She tried several times to climb out of the tub, but they kept her firmly inside, pushing her back inside every time she tried to escape. 

Jack cried for her parents but the women told her that her parents would not come, and that she needed to be quiet now. This only increased Jack's hysteria. Her cries turned to coughing as the women struggled against her squirming, trying to wet her hair and eventually dunking her under the water in their impatience. Still sputtering, Jack was lifted from the tub and toweled dry, while the woman in blue made vain attempts to calm her.

Wrapped in a silken robe, Jack was carried across the complex grounds, and through the drafty and vacant corridors of another building, more ancient than the first. Jack's tears became silent as she stared around the gloomy halls with wide eyes. She did not like this place. She repeatedly asked for her parents, and she was repeatedly rebuffed. Strange objects hung upon the walls, and massive bookshelves lined nearly every room, filled to the brim with moldering scrolls and musty old texts. The place smelled sour and dank--the smell of old age. It reminded her of her father's study, which she had never liked; the artifacts and books of which haunted her dreams with esoteric whispers.

Beyond the halls of forgotten words, Jack was taken into a humble room lined with humble cubbies. There her escorts changed into robes of white while Jack sucked her thumb and clung to the woman in blue's dress. The woman had to remove Jack's hand several times simply to change outfits. It was cold in the room and her still-damp hair clung in tousled, black curls to the top of her head. As her fingers were repeatedly uncurled from her escort's dress, Jack kept her dark brown eyes glued to the far wall. It was made of paper, and it bore the same image as the foyer floor, albeit simplified. Some kind of mythological creature--all claws, feathers, and scales. 

Once the women had exchanged shoes, they picked her up again and carried her through the paper threshold to a great gallery beyond, filled with eerie paraphernalia and even more books. It looked to be a sort of library. 

Jack had always liked libraries yet, for some reason, she did not like this one. 

Glaring at the group of tiny visitors, emblazoned in gold and silver upon the far wall, was another image of the same mythological creature. It appeared fierce and cunning, eyeing them like some guardian creature might eye a gang of interlopers walking along the edge of its territory.

Jack shied away from the creature's gaze, letting forth a whimper, which her escorts ignored.

The woman who had previously been dressed in red approached the wall and opened a small depression in the creature's mouth. There was a metallic clicking and a whirring as she turned something inside. A few moments passed, and then the wall parted to reveal a dismal and yawning staircase.

Jack, who had quieted since the bath, began to kick up a fuss again. She struggled in the arms of her escort. The woman previously dressed in blue tried to shush her once more, and with a huff the other woman took Jack and set her atop the stair. She shook the crying child and held her chin hard, instructing Jack in an unforgiving tone to remain silent.

Jack swallowed her tears fearfully, and watched with dark and wary eyes as they descended the stair.

At its base, the staircase turned into a long and narrow hallway, brightly lit by a simple and utilitarian chandelier. The walls were rough and dingey, despite the stark light,ing and at the far end of the hall stood a heavy, iron door. It looked solid enough to withstand a full-fledged assault, and the unfriendliness of its appearance frightened Jack more than the staircase had.

With a slow and somber creak, the door opened into blackness, and Jack cried to herself as she was carried beyond the veil and into shadow.

Jack's eyes struggled to adjust to the dim lighting of the chamber beyond the iron door. She could barely make out the shapes of figures standing within, robed and faceless. In their center was a large iron box, with a harsh grooves cut into its lid. A great crimson crystal, almost black in color, hung overhead from the low, domed ceiling in a jagged array of points. Torches burnt weakly along crude-cut stone archways around the room, their light seemingly swallowed by that of the crystal. 

The door closed behind them with another loud creak and a clang. Jack started as it latched shut, and she became suddenly aware that there were no other entrances or exits in the room--it was an entirely enclosed space. She looked up nervously at her deliverers. One of them pulled the silk robe from her form, leaving her naked before the group of formless adult figures. A firm hand on her shoulder directed her toward the center of the room, and the menacing, dark crystal that loomed above. 

As she was pushed on, one of the robed figures also stepped forward, while the others began to form a circle around her. And then they began to chant. The chant began as a whisper but steadily rose in volume as the dark figures enclosed the space.

Jack faltered, now trembling, and tried to turn around, but the hands upon her shoulders held her fast. Jack could feel the woman's nails digging into her naked skin as she tried to wriggle from their grasp. She cried for her mother, confused and afraid, yet despite her struggling she was pushed ever forward as the circle of faceless chanters continued their dirge-like processional. As little Jack came to stand before the central figure, before the box of iron, her cries quieted into wordless and wide-eyed terror. She looked up into the void beneath the central figure's hood, her dark eyes meeting nothing but shadow above the thin outline of a pallid jaw.

The figure spoke, revealing that it was a male, though most of his face was obscured. His voice had a thin quality. Raspy, like rustling paper, and he was well-spoken. He addressed the participants, speaking their purpose, and giving Jack nary a glance.

Jack watched with horror as he withdrew a knife from his robe. Its edge appeared red in the sinister light of the crystal. She struggled, attempting one last time to jerk herself from the grasp of her captors, and at last the man acknowledged her.

He knelt down to her level and he told her not to fear, and that no harm would come to her. Then he gently lifted her small and trembling left hand in his own, and slid the blade across her palm.

There was surprisingly little pain, for the blade was so sharp that it drew her nectar with no resistence. The man pressed his fingers upon her palm, coaxing the blood from the wound. Her skin appeared white as porcelaine and her blood black as ink in the abysmal light of the crystal chandelier. 

Jack's eyes were drawn upwards, to stare into the crystal's depths, the glint of its scarlet light reflected in them as her gaze grew dark. She watched, mesmerized as the man began to draw symbols upon her forehead and her stomach in her own blood, and she continued to remain still, like a hollow-eyed doll, as the man stood, whispering esoteric words beneath his breath.

He withdrew, crossing round the box to its other side. Two of the chanters came forward and slid the heavy lid from its top. The women began to push Jack toward the box, and her feelings of terror returned, snapping her from her daze. 

As she struggled against the grip of her captors, whose strength was far greater than her own, she felt something warm and wet trickle down her legs. The participants of the ritual continued their rite, unheeding and unsympathetic, as her urine pooled upon the stone floor. 

The thin-voiced man drew a small gem from his robe. It was no bigger than his palm, and cut into a shape to match that of the groove set into the box's lid. The gem's many facets glinted scarlet and bright, even in the dismal lighting of the chamber, and within them Jack saw the twisted form of the dark chandelier refracted a thousand times over. The sight instilled a sick and twisting sensation in her stomach, like the wriggling of maggots, followed by an intense feeling of cold. The chant began to rise in volume once more, and Jack struggled and writhed as she was lifted into the box. A dozen hands held her down as the sarcophagus's lid was hefted back into place, and with a final clanging of metal the lid was fastened shut, and Jack was engulfed by darkness.

Jack screamed for her parents. Crying, coughing on her tears as she strained her small body against the walls of the coffin. She clawed at its sides and top, searching for any release, and she begged the people outside to let her out. She thought with terror and shame that she was being punished. Was it because she was out of bed when she was not supposed to be? She begged her parents to come back and save her. Save her from the dark and the cold. She made promises and pleas, and she cried as loud as her tired lungs could muster.

Until at last her cries fell silent.

She fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to some eye complications and health issues, Chapter 12 will be posted 21 August 2020 instead of 14 August 2020. Been overworking myself so I need to take a break to recover. Thanks for understanding.


	12. Chapter 12

Jack awoke, a teenager once again, head pounding and feeling nauseous. Every thread of her being, physical and otherwise, complained with exhaustion. Though she blearily opened her eyes, blurred vision and muddled memory confounded her efforts to collect her bearings. She turned her head to the side and nearly vomited from the sense of dizziness that came over her. Fortunately she had not eaten for some time and only a cough came out. She slowly turned her gaze upward again.

A glimmer of light shone down upon her like a star, golden and bright.

She was lying on something soft and, though she could not see properly, she allowed her other senses to feed her information.

The scent of moss came to her nose, and the sound of rustling to her ears, as of that of delicate leaves. Somewhere, she heard the bell-like tinkling of softly trickling water. The air was cool but moist. Pleasant. And within her being she felt a peculiar lightness, like nothing she had ever encountered in her memory. It was a lightness of spirit, uncanny and strange to her weary soul. Jack felt as though something had been removed from deep inside of her, but it did not frighten her. 

It felt good.

Though she could not recall where she was or how she had come to be there, Jack felt at ease--truly at ease--perhaps for the first time in her life.

She lay still in the space, the scent of water and greenery wafting over her, and she slowly, steadily, began to dream. Her slumber, though peaceful, was filled with strange visions. Colors. Shapes. Places she did not recognize, made of distorted amalgamations of her past experiences, unrecognizable in their current forms. Temples and caves that twisted upward and upside-down with no sense of perspective. Halls and gardens with no beginning or end. As she drifted through those liminal spaces, all time fell from her reckoning. 

At last she came to a great void, heavily pregnant with stars. As she approached one of the stars in her curiosity, she discovered all were actually tiny points of crystallized sunlight, like diamonds suspended in space. They dappled the darkness like little pinpricks in the inky expanse.

A web of light unfurled before her, woven betwixt the spheres which hung like dewdrops upon its silvery threads. Upon closer examination the strands were revealed not to be of silver, but instead a rainbow of scintilating colors. Some colors she recognized, and others transcended her imagination, though all passed from her memory as soon as they passed from her vision.

When her curiosity spurred her to touch one of the orbs, she found herself transported to yet another web within it. She touched another and experienced the same, pulled into the little light. She tried this several times, one web after another, traveling further and further into the Great Web, and with each bound into the neverending galaxy of light her sense of wonder and excitement increased.

At length, she came to one orb that glinted with familiarity. As she looked upon it, she began to discern images and sensations within its brilliant shine, and she realized with tremendous fascination that she was looking at her own world. She saw herself within it, and every part of her life laid out. She watched herself with a deep sense of curiosity. And, still, she was unafraid. 

As Jack observed her own being, she saw another network of connections, faint and ever shifting, fan out from her soul within the sphere with other pear-like souls connected to hers. 

She saw her parents. She saw the monks. And she saw others she had come to know in her life, past and present. All with webs of their own.

Jack observed that the energetic threads between the souls flowed in currents of differing directions, like electrical pathways. Most flowed in two directions, both giving and receiving, but some flowed unidirectionally. 

She found Wuya's soul within the web. It appeared to shift and blur as she gazed upon it, unwilling to yield a clear view, hurting her eyes and giving her a headache. She noticed the thread connecting her self and Wuya was muddy in color, and most of the energy flowing along it went to Wuya's soul, and not hers. 

While she contemplated their connection, a sadness came over her. With tears and an ache in her heart she turned her eyes from it.

She continued to study the network of circuits and connections, noticing that not every node was another person. Some nodes were events. Some were places. Many were abstract in nature. Feelings. Notions. Concepts. 

Every point she touched revealed another world of information, and she began to understand. The great System of All was before her, and she saw it not for each individual node, each dewdrop upon the endless threads, but for the whole. It filled her with a sense of blissful wonder, bringing a smile to her lips.

Jack remained within the wandering web, letting it take her wherever it pleased and within she witnessed countless things that set her mind alight. New ideas came into her mind, and she saw more connections in the web form as each idea came. The great System was ever changing, and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Tears welled within her eyes, but for once they were of joy, and she allowed herself the freedom to weep. As the tears flowed, she felt that every pain she had ever experienced was flowing into them. She watched them float into the galaxy of connections like drifting stars, where they were wholly welcomed. She smiled and curled herself amongst the threads, content to let the glittering diamonds of her sorrow fall whichever way they pleased, until she was completely emptied.

After what seemed an eternity of weeping, she felt hollowed out. Cleansed. As if every scar and twisted place in her heart had been reopened, stretched bare, and the sickness squeezed out. It hurt, but with the pain came a tremendous feeling of relief--and belonging. As she drifted among the myriad threads and stars, she felt a rightness within her soul. This was the Great System, and this was her home. In her heart she felt that it had always been as such. She simply had to remember it.

Seeing the exquisite harmony of the universe and her place within it, Jack felt whole again. And within her heart, she felt a new sensation--or perhaps it was something old, like an old, forgotten friend. She felt Hope. 

Jack wanted to stay and drift among the etheric stars forever. She wanted to explore and come to know every beautiful connection, every glimmering strand, and every glittering light of the Great Web. She wandered and experimented within that space for a timeless period, driven by a renewed thirst for existence as she had not known since the day of her birth, when she took her first breath outside the womb.

But then at last there came a pulling in her heart. Her eyes turned back toward her world and herself, and in a mere instant she was standing in a bamboo thicket. A golden light shone from above, gently wafting down upon her through the leaves into a small clearing, upon which she saw herself laying upon a bed of moss. She seemed so small. So frail. Such a fragile and beautiful confluence of thought, spirit, and form. She thought, with some amazement, that she was actually rather pretty. 

Jack knelt by her own side and looked upon her own sleeping face. It was pale, and her breathing was labored just like it had been during her first moments within the world. She watched her chest rise and fall with a sense of reflection. The breaths of her current existence were an echo of that first breath, which was the first act of life--an act that was then repeated for the rest of life until death, when the energy of that echo was reabsorbed into the universe. 

She perceived, if she tilted her head a certain way, the waves of energy flowing around her body. They stretched outward and touched the waves surrounding every other thing in existence, both on the physical plane and beyond. The energy of each thing affected the others, forming a flow of energy between all things, just as gravity flowed between every planet and celestial body--yet another expression of that beautiful System. 

She observed the energy of the bamboo around her sleeping body. The moss beneath her. The cavern, and even the light above. 

And then, with a sudden sense of dread, she sensed a great mass of energy penetrating the energetic fields of all things on Earth, pulling them, warping them, destabilizing them. With each moment its approach threatened to revert all things upon the planet back into the primordial Chaos of their origin. For that is what this force was. It was pure creative energy, and within it was the potential to form anything--or destroy it. She looked down with horror upon her fragile, beautiful form. 

And she awoke with a gasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to some health issues, I need to start publishing chapters every other week on Friday as opposed to every Friday. Next chapter will be up 4 September 2020. On the weeks my health is better, I may be able to post with a one week span. New schedule is every 1-2 weeks on Friday.
> 
> Apologies for the slow down.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being a bit late. Like I have said, I have been struggling with health-related issues. I will still try to get chapters out bi-weekly on Fridays but I may not be as precise as I would like. Thank you for understanding.

When Jack finally awoke from her fevered state, she found herself upon a bed of moss within a bamboo grove nestled at the base of a narrow cavern. High gray walls rose in rocky palacades to a crevice far above, from which golden light crept quietly downward to rest amidst the sleeping grasses. The air there was surprisingly warm, but pleasant, and it carried a thick sense of magic within it. Glowing mushrooms lined the clearing in which she lay and illuminated little pathways that wove through the grove in a natural labyrinth, clearly and carefully tended with loving reverence. The sanctity of this place drew a peaceful sense of wonder to Jack's heart as she observed the golden-framed silhouettes of the bamboo leaves above her.

In short time, Jack learned that she had been in a delirious sleep for several days, ducking in and out of half-conscious mumblings and dizzy daydreams. She was attended by a very exclusive group of individuals, for only a select few were allowed in the grove, which was a place reserved for deep healing. None of the xiaolin monks had been allowed to see her during that time, and when she finally had the strength to sit up, she requested to see them.

Lyn, who was among those granted access to the grove, seemed reluctant to allow such an excursion. Jack was still weak. She'd had difficulty keeping any food down during the time of her illness, and her body was clumsy and uncoordinated as her nervous system haltingly rebooted itself. Lyn explained that Jack's entire energetic structure was being re-written and the alteration of her spiritual self also affected her physical self. Such a drastic change was to be expected, and it came with severe side-effects. Lyn said that Jack would heal however it would take time and careful monitoring.

What Lyn did not tell Jack, was how close she had come to dying in those strenuous few days.

Though Jack was still frail and unsteady, she now shared the same sense of urgency that Lyn felt toward the coming of Apophis and the realization of Chase's destructive plot--Jack had just come to understand herself and her connection to the world, and she was loath to give that up so soon.

With a fair measure of persuasion on Jack's part, Lyn finally conceded to Jack's request, but she insisted--as did Jack--that the young genius attempt to exit the grove on her own power, led through the labyrinth of little paths by the grey warrior and one of the grove's keepers. The pace was slow; she needed to be steadied by the others, and the grove was more massive than Jack had expected. She made it a little over halfway before she was unable to go any further, after which Lyn carried her the rest of the way.

To Jack's surprise, she was not taken to the terrace apartments as expected. Instead, Lyn carried her downward into the city. 

Jack looked left and right, observing the locale with new appreciation and renewed curiosity. When she had first traversed its streets, her view of it had been colored by fear, but now she looked on with the desire for understanding instead. 

She was surprised to find more adornment and decorations within the city streets than found in the temple. Upon the buildings and even the cobbles beneath their feet were etched carvings similar to those in the temple but more prolific, depicting everything from poetry to scenes of temple life. Some of them were gorgeous murals of sacred geometry, and others were more crude in execution, though nevertheless beautiful and rich in unseen histories. The silence of the city was not so sinister as it first seemed during the initial passage through it. No longer afraid, Jack could finally hear the subtle sounds of life within the hidden civilization. 

There was a gentle hum that vibrated in the air--amid whispers of the many waterfalls that echoed throughout the cavern were the minute sounds of life. The flicker of lamplights. Little footsteps upon the terraces and alleys above them. The murmur of gently spoken conversations wove in and out of Jack's awareness. Even the little crystal lights emitted a soft and delicate chiming, if one listened for it. All these sounds Jack had missed before. The entire place had an almost musical quality, soft and subtle but there. And within that place's melody were finer notes and substrings of sound that could be isolated if one only tuned their ears a little differently. Jack experimented with hearing the different parts of the city's sound, just as she had experimented with the threads of the Web. 

Jack did not see, but Lyn sensed the experimentations of her young charge and softly smiled beneath her mask.

The pair came to one of the ubiquitous junctions that permeated the weblike city. This one widened into a plaza which appeared to be some fashion of a bazaar, although there was no exchange of money to be seen within it. 

The bazaar was more lively than any other place Jack had seen in the Hidden Temple. Here, the temple denizens were relaxed, laughing amongst themselves (although their voices were still soft) and sharing whispered conversations. Their modes of dress were more varied than those of the temple. All wore masks to denote their purpose and place in their society, and many still wore the uniform robes of their various stations. Though they wore masks, Jack realized that she did not need to see their faces to understand them. Every person communicated with one another in a myriad of nonverbal inflections. Many spoke with their hands, and some even signed using a fashion of home-grown sign language unique to the temple and its city. The denizens now seemed to mind Jack's presence very little as Lyn carried her through the plaza on her back.

As the two strode through the throngs of people, Jack recognized with a start an unexpected sound upon the air, woven amidst the whispered conversations.

"Is that...music?" She asked Lyn, still in a whisper to match the speech volume of those around them.

"Yes," Lyn replied warmly. "This is a place of leisure and art for those who live here. Musicians often perform in the center of the plaza. Pay attention and you shall see many of the finer expressions of our society in this place."

Indeed, the atmosphere was warmer, both literally and figuratively, than that of the upper echelons of the Temple, and as Jack observed the comings and goings, she began to understand the practical beauty of Lyn's people. 

Many of the items "sold" in the bazaar were of a utilitarian purpose, yet each was crafted with artisanal pride. Furthermore, the exchange of goods was unhurried and amicable, for this was a place not only of commerce, but of bonding. With the exchange of each denizen's fruits, the culmination of their station and life, came the exchange of company, good humor, and conversation.

It occurred to Jack that most of the people must know one another. 

She also noticed that there was no sense of enmity between members of various stations. Every temple-dweller met one another with a mutual appreciation for the vital role they each played in their home, no matter how broad-reaching or minute it seemed to be. The magnanimous nature of their society seemed a wonder to Jack.

In the center of the plaza, as Lyn had said, there was a gathering of people, and amongst them was a small band of musical performers. The people sat upon stone benches and sculpture-like carvings that littered the area. They chatted amongst themselves, some eating small repasts, others sharing the pipes of intricate smoking devices as they listened to the music. Many sat on woven mats. The smell of food, bodies, and sweet smoke filled the air.

The musicians performed beside a fountain of arranged stones, smoothed from years sitting amid the crystal waters. And, also beside the fountain, were the young monks. 

They sat upon the ground, eating snacks they had no doubt acquired within the bazaar. A circle of clearly defined space was around them. It seemed that, though the temple denizens were more at ease in the plaza, they still maintained their wariness of outsiders. None of them went out of their way to interact with the monks. Still, the children seemed happy listening to the strange music. 

Raimundo's face changed when he noticed the approach of Lyn and Jack, alerting his compatriots to the pair's approach, and garnering reactions of both surprise and joy among them. The Xiaolin monks were relieved to see their eccentric associate. 

Even Raimundo, much to Jack's blushing delight, bore a warm smile, although it may have been one of amusement in light of Omi's reaction--the littlest monk bounced to his feet and ran up to Lyn's knees. 

"Jack Spicer you are alive!" Omi cried, beaming with happiness and relief.

Jack had never been so happy to see Omi in her life. She squirmed weakly to indicate her desire to be placed upon the ground, and Lyn gently lowered her; but Jack's eagerness to stand outpaced the speed at which she was able to find stability and she buckled as she took the first step, falling forward. Fortunately, she pulled the fumble off with grace, falling to her knees and embracing the little monk as he ran to meet her. 

Omi was shocked at first, looking up at Lyn in confusion, but he returned the hug. Jack held him as tightly as she could manage--which was not very tight given her weakened state. They held the embrace for several long moments before Jack sniffled and then finally released her young rival, kneeling and sitting upon her feet in front of him. Omi's expression of surprise turned once more into a smile, moved by Jack's display of affection.

Lyn assisted Jack in walking to join the others beside the fountain. Jack made an extra effort to appear as independent as she could in her stride, hiding the actual amount of weakness she felt in her body. She collapsed thankfully into a sitting position upon reaching the monks, and they all offered various greetings. Kimiko gave Jack a quick hug, and Clay gave her a firm clap on the shoulder (nearly knocking her over in the process). Then Omi suddenly clutched Jack's face to his chest, squishing her head in his embrace, as he began to cry tears of joy.

"Oh, Jack Spicer, I was so worried! I feared that I should never see you again! I am so very relieved to see your face. Not just your face though, but ALL of you!" He continued to press her face into the front of his torso until a desperate desire for air drove Jack to squirm.

"Geez, Omi. If you don't let go of him, Jack really WILL be gone for good." Raimundo said.

Omi looked down at Jack and released his embrace suddenly, pulling her by the face instead into an upright position and smushing her cheeks between his palms. 

"Jack Spicer, I am overjoyed at your return! I feared we would have to find a new Dragon of Metal." Omi laughed loudly.

"Yeah well you don't have to worry about that any time soon." Jack replied, still through smushed cheeks, and prying herself from Omi's grasp. "It'll take more than a magical masquerade troupe to do in Jack Spicer."

"What even happened?" Kimiko asked.

As the children began to talk, Lyn stood by, quietly watching the musicians and the dancer that performed with them. 

The dance was one composed of flowing motions and interpretive demonstrations of balance, and the dancer wore garments fashioned to accentuate her movements. Trails of cottony white fabric fluttered about her arms, which were covered completely in black beneath, as was the rest of her body. Even her face was blacked out with dark fabric, turning her into a stark silhouette of pure interpretive motion. The dance was uncanny but beautiful, like everything else in the twilight city.

Even as Lyn stood, appreciating the performance, she kept a vigilant eye upon her charge.

"Yeah. What did they do?" Raimundo also asked.

Lyn had clearly told them few details--if any--about what had transpired.

Jack cast her gaze downward, reluctant discuss details of the ceremony. She was filled with a stinging sensation of sorrow as she recalled the ritual and the memories it had revealed to her. The thought alone was enough to make her nauseous and light-headed. She must have shown some indication of her condition to the others, appearing as though she might swoon, because Kimiko quickly changed the subject.

"We've been allowed to explore more of this place while you were away. It's actually pretty incredible. If a bit quaint..." She added the last bit with a sour note.

"None of the locals will talk to us though." Raimundo smirked. "Guess they really do hold grudges against outsiders."

"Now, I reckon they just aren't accustomed to seeing strangers is all," Clay said.

"Yeah. And Rai, you ARE pretty strange." Kimiko teased. 

Omi laughed heartily at her comment and the others smiled.

"Says the girl with pink hair," Raimundo snarked in good-humored retaliation. 

Kimiko's hair had pink highlights, arranged in one of her many creative hairstyles that day. Coupled with her colorful outfit--which had since been washed, mended, and returned to her--Kimiko could be seen in this crowd from a mile away. 

Meanwhile, Jack still wore an outfit of plain, colorless garments, and she was without any makeup. Feeling suddenly self-conscious and naked before the others, Jack lowered her head sheepishly, pretending to scratch an itch on her forehead, mussing discreetly with her hair. 

She did not know it, but her whole affect bespoke a measure of frailty not usually present, despite her efforts to appear as confident and energized as ever. Her complexion was more pallid than typical, and her cheeks thin, and her unadorned eyes sallow. Combined with the unusual absence of makeup, she left a ghostly and hollow impression in all who looked upon her. The monks politely did not point any of this out to her, though some of the more 'adventurous' temple-dwellers dared offer a furtive glance in her direction, wondering if she was ill and liable to keel over at any moment. 

Despite her drawn appearance, Jack smiled at the group. She was infinitely pleased to see her old rivals, and the sheer extent of her pleasure startled her. 

In that brief instant of surprise, Jack discovered that she felt differently toward the monks than she did toward anyone else. She recalled the energetic threads woven between her soul and those of the monks. The threads they shared were the strongest and brightest of all her soul-connections. The five of them had known each other for a few years now, and the monks were the closest things she had to friends.

The concept of friendship seemed alien. She had never considered herself as one to 'have friends'. Jack always assumed she would spend the entirety of her days alone--live by herself, die by herself. Even the closest of her associates she had always regarded with a certain underlying resentment. And her attitude toward the monks had thus far been the same, held at length in bitter apprehension. 

Yet sitting there, right then, at the base of the time-worn fountain alongside the others, she noticed the absence of such a feeling. She puzzled at the change, even as the monks continued in conversation. 

They had begun speaking of other topics, unaware of the gymnastics within their associate's mind. They spoke of the temple and their observations, and they wondered whether they would ever be allowed to leave.

Ah. Yes.

Jack's eyes grew dark as she turned her thoughts once more to the imposing energy felt during her convalescence in the bamboo grove. 

The Voice had yet to speak on its decision to let the Chosen Children go or not, yet time was indeed growing short. Jack wondered at the reason for such a delay but, ever practical, she realized they could not wait for such a decree. 

She glanced sidelong at Lyn, who was still admiring the musical performance. 

Jack smiled blithely and commented that she was hungry, casting a pleading look upon her keeper in hopes to find the warrior willing to part with her charge, briefly, in order to acquire food. Jack added sweetly that she would be safe with the monks to keep her company. 

Lyn tilted her head thoughtfully and then acquiesced. 

Jack watched the warrior vanish into the crowd, and then immediately leaned forward as soon as Lyn was out of earshot. She spoke in a whisper to the others.

"I've been thinking about that too. We need to talk, but we can't right now." She gave a meaningful nod in the direction of Lyn. 

The monks looked at one another, suddenly serious, listening.

"Meet me tonight by that waterfall near the far side of the terrace when everyone's asleep." Jack hissed.

She then sat up abruptly and smiled, speaking of benign things as if they had been having a simple conversation the entire time, and hoping that the others would follow suit. They all did--though Omi seemed intent to speak further on the previous matter, missing the cue, but Kimiko hugged him to herself before he could say anything. She tactfully smushed his face into her chest to keep him silent; he did not seem to mind.

If anything, teenagers are very good at conspiring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS - I just want to be a ninja and live in the Hidden Temple omg


End file.
